I saw how wet she was getting and how she was dripping all over the vibrator and the bed. I took a few photos and let everyone enjoy the moment, and t...en said "keep the blindfold on and get on your knees for me." She took the vibrator out and got on her knees. I took the opportunity to take another picture of her open and clearly wet sex.She put the vibrator back in, arched her back and moaned "uhh, I want him to see me bent over and all filled up. I want him to cum on my ass like this. Oh. Marcus got into a street dancing groove, marking the beat with his knees and hips. Simple, but I have to admit it was more in style than my Latin twisting and rolling. People started trickling onto the dance floor and, after a few more songs, a good atmosphere was building up. My attention kept going back to a group of tall men that were moving in a real Jamaican style. It was very minimalist, their long legs bent with the knees going from one side to the other with a soft sway of the hips and. Soaping her lips her fingers would linger in application to her clit that seemed so large and responsive. Her mouth was unusually slippery too, and it obviously was not from the soap as her other hand studiously attended her ass. Showers were becoming longer and more enjoyable regardless whether they ended in the satisfaction that such effective cleansing could provide. Evenings often found wet expression of their stories or hers veering from theirs. The closer the time, the more she wondered. ‘Oi! You look a bit like Steve Collins… I like him!’ I turn and see two fat slappers dressed in leather jackets and jeans loitering in a shop entrance – they are probably early twenties. They put me in mind, for an instant, of the bloated spiders, you see in autumn, patiently straddling their webs hoping for a fly to stumble blindly in… ‘You mean Steve Collins the ‘Celtic Warrior’… the boxer?’ I respond. I don’t think I do resemble him… and I’m ten years older too but add: ‘You like boxing.