He was in the top floor study of his Mayfair house and had a perfect view of the protest march that was wending its way through the plush streets. Und...ubtedly it was concerned with something the bloody Americans had said or done to arouse the ire of the good-for-nothing layabouts. Was it something to do with petrol subsidies? Was it the nukes they'd sold to Kazakhstan? Was it the use of fire-arms to suppress protests in Detroit and Chicago? God knows. These greenies and lefties and bloody. “Now you work the room,” she said. “Men will want to have you dance on their laps. It's a new thing. They can't touch you unless you let them. And they can't force you to have sex. It's not allowed.”“That doesn't sound like fun,” I pouted, my pussy on fire. “But I know who wants me to give them a lap dance My daddy is out there.”“Your...” Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, you are something else, Alexandra.”“Uh-huh,” I grinned. She had such kissable lips. Maybe Missy D could have a threesome with. I grabbed the soft flesh roughly through her bra, pinching her nipple between my thumb and finger making her gasp breathlessly. Her pert breast fit perfectly in my hand. I pulled her back against me, my cock fully hard and being expertly stroked by these Latin buttocks. I let my other hand slip lower, my fingertips already touching wetness. She was soaking already! She had soaked through her knickers and her shorts. I could not resist, I cupped her pussy fully, hooked a finger under to feel her. Gary called her the Klingon. That other voice, the one I couldn't quite place, was saying I was sick, the flu or something. He also told her that he was a friend. He'd come over to help get me well. I thought to myself, there's nothing wrong with me, but that didn't seem quite right either, did it? I was sore in my chest and I had a headache too. Maybe the voice was right. I sure was tired. "No, no, you can't come in right now, he's resting, see?" said the voice. "But I want to see if he's ok..