He opened the door in nothing but his boxer briefs.Kenya’s light-brown eyes lusted after the performance-underwear-clad, beigish-brown, sinewy broth.... “Nice hat, Santa,” she smiled.“Merry Christmas,” grinned the guy who had played point guard for the university’s basketball team during undergrad.“Merry Christmas to you too, handsome,” she winked at the considerably younger fellow.“Have you been naughty or nice?”Takarsh shut the door behind them.“Very naughty,” Kenya pursed her lips. “Bathroom,”. I'm unbuttoning my shirt. As I do it, you to turn around to face me, cupping your tits in your hands. I ask you to turn around once more, and undo your bra. I watch carefully as you comply. Your fingers release the clasps and the fabric hangs loosely against your flesh. I see your shoulders tense, it pushes your breasts closer together.” My hands move up to my breasts and I tease the nipples. “Do not touch yourself,” he says sternly. This excites me. You telling me what to do and what not to. At the time I was staying in a hotel in central London and as they lived in the suburbs they suggested that we meet socially for lunch in town if I could have a break from work. I of course agreed and arranged to meet them at a pub far enough away from my office but close enough.So lunchtime came and I arrived at the pub just before 12:00 and sat at a table in like a both waiting for my guests when I got a text from Patrick saying there was a problem on the tube and they were going to be 15. She and Ken occasionally interacted around the lodge, and finally became friends. There was a distance between them that they both wanted to keep though. Consuela still did not approve of Ken's affair with the sisters, and Ken did not want to get too close to a woman who had been hurt so much and had such a fiery temper.The situation with Marta and Marcia continued. Every second or third night one of the two would visit with Ken. Marcia always spent the night, while Marta still would not. Both.