She says ‘Hi,’ as I sit down. Her look is a less disastrous match to my own: hair not done up quite so fancy as when I saw her downtown, but caref...lly styled into gentle waves that cascade down her shoulders and frame her face. Top shoving her breasts together but not revealing enough to be flirty. Light make-up. Very light. I know her well enough to be able to read what all that means: she is carefully trying to avoid giving me the impression that she’s interested, but she also wants to show. Although part of me – the bad part – got a thrill from seeing them both on edge about what they were about to do.“Get ‘em off, then,” I instructed with a smile.Shannon nudged Lauren. “You first. You’ve already done it once.”Lauren didn’t even bother to protest. She just deftly released her bikini top. The memories of her tits were still achingly fresh in my mind, so there was a little less awe and wonder this time, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off her as she undressed. The sight of those. Finally, her eyes opened and I quietly asked her if that was a satisfactory answer. Neither of us had the breath to laugh so we simply clung stickily to each other as we waited, yet again, for our breathing to stabilise.Once we could speak, my somewhat warped sense of humour reasserted itself and I remarked that the logistics of arranging so many partners would be difficult. (I should explain here that I'd had four lovers, post-marriage) Quick as a flash she retorted: "Who said I only wanted to. The happy couple had been chimerically prattling on about the doctor’s appointment to which they were headed, and he didn’t see the man who’d darted into the intersection to retrieve a tire that had fallen from the back of his pickup bed. He swerved to avoid the man and his tire, but as he was in the far left lane, the new obstacle in his diverted path was an unrelenting cement median wall, and his car flipped twice before tumbling over the barrier and landing in the emergency lane of the.