I closed the door behind me and tried to walk as “coolly”, as my hard-on would let me, into the room. I dropped the stuff from the bar onto the ...loor and dropped to my knees behind R and, grabbing her thighs in my hands. I buried my face into her big, butt-cheeks! She smelled like damp roses and wet pussy! Her camel-toed muff slid up-and-down on my chin and mouth. The fabric of her thong and the hair on her pussy rubbed my face rhythmically, and, I began to grope her ass! R, cooed as I. The ones she felt sorry for were the poor riot control squad that was stuck in the middle trying to keep the two groups separated. Young men and women serving their mandatory time in the military suddenly found themselves facing people who might be their family, friends, or neighbors. It was ugly.Debbie hated the protests. It wasn’t that she feared getting hurt as a result of a riot breaking out near her. It wasn’t that they were targeting her specifically. No one had associated her with Oscar. Areas of her crotch were becoming slick withdampness she spread with her palm. Her hips bobbedslightly up and down from the couch. Her gaze was locked on mine, my jaws were clenched,and my nostrils had probably flared. She was breathingquicker, too. I had moved on to my other breast, notbothering to release it from clothing, but rubbing itthrough the patterned nylon of my bra. It felt as goodas, maybe better, than no clothing at all.Amy had slipped her middle finger inside herself acouple of. The ones I mean are the small tidbits that look like two fluffy pillows stuck together, black on the outside but rich brown when pulled apart. They are actually made up of four pieces and are easily separated again lengthwise. As this ritual division is being completed, the licorice oil gets all over my fingers, not sticky like the licorice itself but slippery like one would imagine the ink from an octopus to be. Black licorice has its own unique taste, slightly minty with a hint of metal. As.