It was very late. The place would be closing soon, and we were practically alone. There were only two other people we had seen the entire night: a man... the cook, well behind us (and behind a cement wall) in the kitchen, completely out of sight, and this adorable girl acting as hostess at the front door. Other than them, we were alone. And only the cutie-pie could actually see, let alone hear us. When all of this dawned on me, I got an idea. I got an awful idea. I got a wonderful, awful idea...I. 52 caliber buffalo rifle. The throat of his shirt was open underneath a yellow bandana, and the sleeves were rolled up deeply tanned arms to the elbows. He looked to be a man in his mid-twenties with black, curly hair and piercing blue eyes. He squinted against the hot glare of the noonday sun and, after a moment, placed the sweat-stained Stetson back on his head. The Indian, a boy, had been dead some considerable time. The body was bloated with gas. The lower portion, from the hips down, was. What would the voyeur do? Just thinking about it made her exhaustion fade, being replaced by arousal.Maybe a man would see her and get off with her, listening to her moans and whimpers. Maybe a woman would pass by and hear the sound of her buttocks against the window, joined by the squishing sound of a dildo pounding a wet pussy. Maybe she'd call up to her, asking if she could try it out. Michelle would have loved to be caught, joined, fully exposed and fully embarrassed but unable to stop. While you jerk on my cock, you take my shaft into your mouth again and lick the head. I am so hard. I need your pussy. I pull you by your hair to the couch and bend you over it. I pull your panties aside and spit on my cock, rubbing it around for a second before I stick my cock into your tight wet pussy. You moan as I fill you with my thick cock. I fuck you hard. Still pulling on your hair, I use it to stick my cock as hard and fast into you as I can. With my free hand I smack your ass leaving.