It was completely hidden from the outside and anyone entering could be heard walking through the brush. Someone had brought in a old picnic table with...attached benches. He was standing next to the table rubbing his crotch. " looks like you got an itch that needs to be scratched" I said as I walked up to him. "What are you into? " he asked. "Fucking, sucking, rimming, anything kinky". "Top or bottom?" "Versatile but mostly bottom" I replied. He slid his hand into my shorts and grabbed. They were as loud as could be as they sat down at a table and ordered shots and pitchers of beers. There was a juke box and they were putting on party songs, dancing and drinking and having a wild time. A few times, the girls were grinding and twerking which was really exciting to watch. All I could imagine was how these babes could fuck. The way they were dancing was making my dick hard. We sent the girls a few pitchers of beer and went over to talk with them. One of the girls in the group. Well I guess that was the signal he was waiting for and all he needed to hear. On the next run up my thigh with his hand he keep coming higher and run his finger tips over the lips of my pussy. As wet as I was by now I know he felt it and sure enough he said, "damn mom your sure wet". He asked "Is this turning you on that much"? Without thinking about my answer I said, "yes Mark it is and you can touch me more if you want baby". Well again that's all it took because the next feeling I had was. Where the shuttle had needed to compensate for the bay’s gravity, the Broker vessel seemed untouched, merely floating down to the floor as though it was no heavier than a feather.It did not deploy landing gear. Instead, it came to a stop just above the deck, as if it was resting on an invisible cushion. It slowly rotated on a dime to put itself side-on to its captivated audience, an indent appearing in the chrome finish at its flared midsection, as though an unseen blade was scoring the metal..