Betty was a strikingly beautiful woman, in her mid- thirties and I just couldn’t imagine her using a dildo.Bob laughed and jokingly remarked, “May...e we should swap wives.”The thought of nailing Betty was a fanciful thought for me. I had already seen in her just about everything she had, from skinny jeans, to her cut-off shorts, to her tight little spandex work out attire and her way too small string bikini.“Betty wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me,” I half-heartedly replied, trying to. Oh, man. I am still amazed by what I’ve done. In my time, I went after all the sacred cows. All the untouchable subjects. I danced all over what most consider to be the danger zones. Big women. Big men. Lesbians. Bisexuals. Gays. Heterosexuals. Strap-on fetishists. African-American male and female relationships. Bisexuality in the Black Community. Bisexuality in the Haitian Community. Lesbianism in the Black Community. The Rights of Men in an age of Feminist Domination. Or should I say. Hell, I can feel you pushing back against me. I can feel the way you are squeezing my cock with your pussy.”Riki didn’t manage to answer that well, and her answer which was going to be a no, came out more like a long moan of “uhhhuuuuuu,”, she was just too busy getting fucked and she was totally distracted by the raw sex that was taking place in front of her. Her little Gwen’s head was down in the folds of Abby’s pussy and she was eating her little sister out as feverishly as Riki was getting. I glanced around and saw that no one was aware of what was happening. That was good! We were being quiet but on a silent bus, even the sound of a zipper might alert someone. As she jerked me up and down, she decided it was time for a little multitasking and pulled at her pants drawstring with her left hand.I saw what she was doing and she smiled. Slowly, she put that left hand into the front of her pants and began rubbing herself. Immediately, she was squirming in her seat, trying to remain.