I carefully took my hand off my tit and dipped a finger into my opening. Just a touch, a brief swirl around the edge that made me suck in a breath, th...n lifting the finger to my mouth, sucking my juices off. As I did I closed my other hand on my clit, pushing and rubbing. It was good, the taste of my own fluids and the exhilaration of having my button pushed. I could feel the tension building towards release. My hips started to buck, and I moved my other hand down to work my fingers in and out. Peter answered the front door when they did. Sgt Peters looked as nice as she sounded: robust but with a friendly face, warm eyes and a pleasant smile. With her was WPC Reynolds. She was, of course, younger but slimmer and taller. She too had a gentle face.Peter welcomed them and said softly, “We had a bit of worry yesterday evening about your coming but she’d calmed down by supper-time and seems to be totally in control of herself this morning.”“Great!” answered Sgt Peters equally softly and. We started off as normal. The girls were talking, whispering and texting and I played some of my kind of music to hum along with. After about 10 minutes, I nearly veered into the oncoming lane of traffic. Meagan put a hand on my thigh right where my cutoff jeans ended. She must have told all the other girls about our afternoon play session a couple weeks earlier. I pretended not to notice the hand and concentrated on my driving, but for at least 10 minutes, Meagan rubbed my thigh and her. Jones, Mrs. Jacobs or Miss Lane or whatever, whereas they only ever used surnames when they yelled for a boy across a busy office. All day long it was Clarke get this - Clarke take that - Clarke go and get - and while I was by now used to it, it grated a bit when they still called me Clarke at the Christmas party. It was mainly for this reason that I made to leave just after 10 pm and was collecting my coat when I became aware of an older woman collecting hers at the same time. She was about my.