The fingers are busy. It feels good. Your breath quakes. You want to close your eyes, but know you shouldn’t. Your host comes over and speaks to the...owner of the fingers. “Very nice, don’t you think?”“Oh yes,” says a man with a foreign accent. “Very nice. So pretty!” The man steps forward into your view yet the fingers continue their exploration. It must be a woman. She knows. Soon you feel her dipping her finger into your cunt. Then out, then in and round and round. You know you are getting. . what if ... what if they don’t like me?”“Doesn’t matter. The ceremony is only for the public anyway ... and your folks, I suppose. We’ve already bonded.” At my puzzled look he went on, “I’ve something in my pocket, I’ll think about it, you tell me what it is.”It was perhaps the strangest thing I’d experienced to this point, like someone adjusting an old-style broadcast TV antenna. There was a flickering image, suddenly clear. “A folding pocket-knife,”I said, not nearly so certainly as the. Ogni tanto ne scelgo uno, molto più giovane di me, bello quasi quanto me e con tutti i muscoli al loro posto.Scelgo il meglio perché posso permettermelo e perché sono interessata solo a farci sesso.Non ho storie d’amore da anni perché ho capito che fare sesso con tanti ragazzi è molto più divertente che stare a casa a pulire e cucinare per un uomo.Il mio interesse non è scopare il pavimento, semmai scopare sul pavimento.Li chiamano toy boy, quei ragazzi smaniosi di andare a letto con una donna. Sure there were a lot of different shapes and a little cellulite and sag here and there, but the way we thought about it made it sexy and arousing.Celeste and Julie were lying face down on our two massage tables that sat in the shade of the palm grove near the gazebo on the pool patio. Each of tables also had two men and another woman beside it – masseurs and masseuses, and we were taking turns giving deep tissue rubdowns to our two new lovers, sometimes two or three of us working.