Not of touching herself, but of doing it at his suggestion, his command. Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, she had slid her hand into her panties. It...had been even wetter than earlier. She had stroked her lips, inside her lips, her clit, her opening. She had felt very warm and floaty. Just as she was establishing a rhythm, he had then told her to go to the window. “Why,” she had asked. “For excitement,” he had said. She had known what he would ask next. She was not going to stand with a. “Thank her for what?”“Because of her, I got you to fuck my pussy.”“But I didn’t fuck your pussy.”“Not yet,” Emily smiled. “But as soon as I get out of the stall to pee, you’re going to!”Mike smiled to himself, as he listened to Emily’s pee hit the water in the toilet. What did her pussy look like, he wondered. Was she shaved or bushy? How would she taste? How tight would she feel, surrounding his dick?When Emily emerged from the bathroom stall, she opened her hand.“Today really is my eighteenth. He must have been looking at porn on his phone, and his movements and the sounds coming from him. His breathing was getting heavier and his movements were speeding up. I knew by my motherly instincts that I should stop him or at least disturb him, but for some reason I found the whole situation erotic. My nipples were hardening pressing against my bra. I could feel the heat building in my vagina. I wanted to touch myself but knew if I moved it would put him off, and ruin his moment. Monica passed a few bitchy comments about the two girls who fronted the band, they being blonde and wearing short skirts meant that they were bimbo's as far as Monica was concerned.The group was on stage for three quarters of an hour, and at the end of their first session Monica was telling anybody who would listen how bad they were. We were spared slightly when the meal was served, but she kept up a steady stream of complaints throughout the meal, she also kept drinking, quite a bit more than.