Did I give Dave signals? Had I led him on? Did I wear something wrong? We were just sitting there and having drinks. We talked about our work lives an... some various other small talks. In our past conversations via text we never flirted. I know I drank a good amount of wine, but I wasn’t completely intoxicated and well aware of what I was saying to him. I was wearing a simple loose-fitting striped cotton dress that went to just above my knee. I didn’t find it provocative, hot, or sexy.I thought. ‘Are you going to strip the desktop by hand?’ ‘I don’t have a sander. Can you recommend one?’ ‘I’ll tell you what. I’ve got one you can use, I’d be happy to bring it over if you’d like.’ Looking into his eyes again made the decision for her, ‘If you have time I could really use the help.’ Standing in the garage, she was hand sanding when he pulled into the driveway. Something stirred inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time, as she watched him walk toward the garage, sander in one. Never before had I experienced an orgasm in such silence before. I opened my eyes and tried to get my bearings. I got my breathing under control and my sweetie was sitting there smiling and discretely smelling his fingers. I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door right before I glanced back and saw the woman seated at the table, gripping the arms of her chair and her breasts heaving like she was in the middle of her own special moment. Once outside, in the bright afternoon sun,. Our little orgy had attracted so much attention, that Miss. Cramer came in to see what all the fuss was about. With my fingers buried deep inside Kelly's pussy, and my tongue doing a dance on her clit, she picked that particular moment to let out a scream that echoed through the locker room like a freight trains whistle, as she unloaded a title wave of pussy juice all over my face. Everyone knew that Miss. Cramer was a lesbian, but the looks she shot me as I was leaving the locker room.