In fact, no matter which way we went, either over to Atlanta and south through Macon, or straight south down through Columbus and Albany, it was over ...our hours away, and that was in a car. Do it in a lumbering school bus and we were probably talking a five-hour trip, longer if you figure in a bathroom break or two. The game was scheduled for 6:00 PM, so the school buses left at 11:00 AM. We weren’t figuring all that many fans to follow.Lowndes was a big school, at least twice our size, and. A college junior herself she had no time for their retarded come-ons. Or for the posturing of rock-star wannabees. These Rejects were a pretty tight outfit, though, and the lead guitarist definitely drew a second glance. He wasn’t conventionally handsome—features a little too angular. It was more the way he leaned into those riffs, the effortless flight of his fingers on the frets. Playing more for love than for show. And yes, it was also to do with how sweat highlighted the definition of his. Some of them had nothing to read, but that didn't matter, as it was obvious from those that did that this worked. Had there been eight different computer screens in front of me, we could have read them all without any of the superimposition, flickering, or other silly problems we'd had last time. It was very easy for each mind to concentrate on their area alone, and it'd be even easier if they were discrete computer screens, because there'd be no doubt where the borders were.The only problem I. He loved it. I was making him feel so much better. I shoved a hand between my thighs and rubbed at my wet pussy. I caressed my hot labia and then shoved two fingers deep inside me. I moaned about the cock buried in my throat. Shit, the guy grunted. Holy shit. What a bunch of sluts, groaned a guy. I cant believe this is happening. I couldnt either. Being a bimbo caused so many problems. Luckily, I was equipped to help all the men. Shit, the man groaned. His dick throbbed. His cock erupted,.