The guy’s name was Justin; just as I had expected…Soon it became clear Justin was hungry for sex, but he was a little confused about the situation... From the way he stared at me, I could know that Bob had not informed him that he intended me to watch them fuck. I was feeling slightly uncomfortable. But Bob, always happy to be in charge, turned to the guy and begged him to go into the bathroom.They disappeared into the bathroom and it was extremely quiet for about a long while. Then I started. That had been a burning question for me, at least from when I found out about boys (happened when I learned to change diapers) and got intimately acquainted with them a few years later."Now here's a secret," I went on. "He has to get his fingers wet. That's pretty sensitive skin down there, and dry fingers actually hurt. Guys don't want to hurt you! If you tell them they can't touch you unless they wet their fingers, those fingers will be so wet... !" They giggled again, and I began to feel. I watched his face as he swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat, 'It's OK Micheal, you can let it out, I'm here, there's a good boy', my words echoing around the room, soothing, yet encouraging his release, his eyes were closing and his cock jumped a few times in my loosely fingered grip, I sensed he was near.I looked at my daughter and suggested she leave us for a few minutes, Pia's look showed she was annoyed at having to do so, she had just settled down for a show and perhaps. From his gestures it was apparent that the sleaze was not happy about the blouse or the sarong.However at that instant Helen arrived and the words, "Fuck off, arsehole," if nothing else, were plainly audible to everyone on that deck."Looks like my wife is angry," John quietly commented to me. "It'll be interesting if that wanker argues with her. Helen's into all that marshal arts stuff; I wonder if that fat arsehole floats?" Then John Carpenter started laughing out loud.The Sleaze looked like.