She noticed Cynthia coming downstairs in a nice silk robe, fresh from a shower, her skin bronze from what was undoubtedly her latest tanning session. ...��Hey Ms. W. How’s it going?’ she said, toweling her blonde hair dry. ‘Pretty good, Cyn. Say, has Marcus been around here lately?’ Marsha asked. She was oblivious to the fact that Cynthia was painfully aware that her cargo pants had slid down again, exposing both of her pelvic ridges and a nice expanse of skin under her belly button. Cynthia shook. Should I dare to follow you and watch and revel in your discomfort? As I think of this the lady beside me excuses herself and walks off confidently after you.After a few minutes the lady returns to her chair, an indecipherable expression on her face. Did she see? How wonderful if she did. How humiliating for you. The dirty old cat! Did she enjoy your humiliation? Perhaps that was the look I couldn’t place. Her man is laughing audibly and turns deliberately to watch for you.You return, it is. I learned the men were so excited they also alerted the men from neighboring towns. That week, my café served sexless men from four townships. Every day I was there, I flowed a river of cum and I was dipped in white sugar from head to toe as each man used my café for their needs and contributed their cum of satisfaction as their thank you.I had men sliding their dick in my hair until they came, fucking my red-polished toes, fucking my arm pits and of course between my tits. If they couldn't. "Tom," she whispered quickly, "I know we just met, but I find you hot, and I think I want to do things with you, sexual things. I have been watching you all week, and every day I went home, I had to play with myself after seeing you. I can't hold back any longer. I know the bus is an hour away, but I have to have you!"I was stunned, and I felt my mouth fall open. In response, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a glorious kiss, tongue seeking out mine and flicking across it.Now, I am not.