I love sending naughty messages to other men, though, even when I can tell it isn't leading to a hookup. It gets me wet to test out what dirty things ...hey want to hear, to know what they hope to get out of me if/when they are brave enough to follow through. The other man was saying just the right things to keep me getting wetter and wetter as I sat at the bar, alone, in a dress with no panties, wishing I could find a way to come home fucked.I rubbed that wet pussy with my feet spread wide as I. I try to keep my head down keeping it out of my line of sight. "The study isn't going to work if you don't look at it" he says. I look up, I really didn't want to get slapped or worse yet, sent out on the porch. It was still there, now inches in front of me. I could feel my dick getting harder and my face began to flush getting redder, more from the embarrassment than the sharp slap to the face he had given me.He was smiling, "Open your mouth, bitch and stick out your tongue." I did as I was. Maybe the fact that Allison was board, or maybe because she was 15 and I was 12; maybe that's why we seemed to be fighting all the time that summer. If I said something was white she'd say it was black and then we'd go at it until mom or dad finally broke us up.So it is even more mystifying that what happened, happened.I was hiking around up the hill from our cabin, poking around in one of the old ruined gold mines that were all over the place back then, when I heard a noise. I didn't think. Within minutes I feel him tense beneath me, and then relax. “I am so sorry,” he blushed. “I last longer than that. I don’t know what happened.”I laugh and shrug it off, and reassure him that it is fine and he can make it up to me later. Rolling off of him, I grab a vibrator, and rub it over my clit, finishing myself off. He watches me as I play with myself and I reach climax, squirting all over the bed. At that moment Chris enters the bedroom, cheerfully letting us know that breakfast is.