I peeked over the fender and scanned the parking lot, hoping to see someone I knew. No luck. I slid back down into hiding and resumed my ministrations... working first one, then two fingers, into my steaming hole. The car next to mine clicked loudly as the owner unlocked it remotely. I prayed for the owner to be a woman but karma was against me. I popped up so just my eyes were above the fender and tried to identify the owner. My luck was getting worse by the minute. Two college-age boys. We met at the stable. It’s not like we could do much, but we kissed and stuff. Then he met a girl who had a way better body and dumped me.”I shook my head, “Guys who only go for looks are not cool in my book.”“And you don’t? Becky is really gorgeous! And so was that Indian girl at the party.”“There’s more to it than just good looks. First of all, my type is not the ample-chested, airhead cheerleader. I prefer cute to pretty, and you’re cute,” I said.“Me? But I’m flat-chested and dumpy!” she. He wanted to do me from behind so I lay on my stomach so he could bring his huge naked body down on top of me. Looking around I saw his superb biceps bulging as they took the weight of his body then I felt his hot cock exploring my slit as he moved slightly forward so his knob located my asshole. It was the best feeling I had ever had. I never realised how much I wanted a real man inside my effeminate body and there was nowhere I wanted it more than up my bottom. I had fantasised about this so. Dreaming of Tuesday. The next two days of waiting were my own private hell. Made worse by my husband returning home Sunday, only to start up on his usual ranting nonsense about how I plotted with that rich family against him, his brother, and their father, even though all of that happened twenty or more years before I even met Frank. Finally, Tuesday morning arrived. I dressed for work in a crisp white blouse, no bra underneath. Navy blue miniskirt, my favorite tiny baby-blue lace panties and.