When Marci was spread out on her tummy, the preacher raised her skirt up and began rubbing the back of her leg."Oh, that's where it hurts," she gasped...when his fingers pressed against a muscle up on the inside of her inner thigh."I can feel a knot there," he said. "I think a massage will probably loosen it."Spread out flat on her belly with her head resting on her arms, Marci began relaxing as the minister's strong fingers gently rubbed and massaged the sore muscle. She was finding it a bit. Whilst this didn't cause her pussy lips and clit to bulge out like her previous positions had, it did serve to completely eliminate any distortion the water may have had, and gave the impression that she was offering her cunt to the two teens standing out of sight less than six feet away. My cock was rock-hard restrained against my stomach by my crossed hands. I could distinctly feel the silky wetness of leaking pre-cum on my stomach above the waistband of my shorts, as I enjoyed the view of. “Mind if I jam with you?” George asked.“Sure, you can play my other guitar if you want,” I replied. “What do you want to play?”“Let’s go with those two ones of mine that you covered so well; ‘Good Times’ first.”George led off with the intro; I picked up the lead after the first verse; we sang the chorus together; it felt really good to be playing rock music again. We had just started on the intro of ‘I’ll Make You Happy’ when the other guys arrived; George and I stopped playing, and he. He fainted and I had to think quickly or my father would have assumed something else besides shyness."Lady, in those days I was younger, and men turned their heads to stare at my breasts, which I rarely bothered to bind. Then I met my husband who had, shall we say, loftier goals than my breasts. Not that he's ever stinted on paying them homage."Noia blushed heavily."Yes, I really do understand, Lady Noia. I do. That was before our son was born. My breasts grew -- substantially -- before that.