“Oh, I’ll need a demonstration to judge your competence,” I said with a smile in my voice. “I’ll also take a run at Mister Arm when I get hi... work schedule for tomorrow.”“He is working opening at 6 AM till 4PM,” Julie aka Mary Poppins said.“I’ll arrange to bump into him after work tomorrow,” I said.“Sounds like the perfect chance to get a lesson from the master,” Julie said.“Honey, I really don’t need the ‘Surfer Dude’ breathing down my throat,” I said.“Don’t worry I can take care of Marshall,”. And so, I read on… now with my right hand inside my now unzipped pants, fingers exploring on top of my skimpy red lace panties, their light pressures rubbing through my engorged bump sent strong shivers that coursed through my entire body as well as the feel of the slight coarseness of the lace on the silky clit surface was more than enough to make me crazy. My left hand cupped and squeezed over my left 38B breast, kneading it slightly through the flimsy cotton material of my tank top and. It was a very slow almost-but-not-quite fucking and it captivated her wantonness, her proclivity, and amplified her need. He had found her center and her thirst and while his attentions exhilarated her lust, it was like a sip of water to a thirsty animal…just enough to entice but not satisfy. The performance on stage had become secondary, almost non-existent, in her psyche. Only his touch, his orchestration of her body in minute detail became the music, the dance, the performance. Then, in. Cal saw the guy grab her. He knew someone should have warned her. He smiled at Sandy, ‘Excuse me a moment.’ Cal was no hero, and when it came to any kind of fighting he was the last man anyone would want on his side, but he was still a gentleman, and Maureen looked like a damsel in distress. He slowly walked toward the two guys, ‘Hey let her go.’ Across the room Warren saw the scene develop. Cal wasn’t a fighter, never had been. That was Warren’s specialty. Everyone in the bar knew it too..