Her mouth and throat burned from the bitterness. She thought she might have detected coffee or even wine. Breathing through her nose to keep up with h...m had opened yet another dimension. Her nostrils filled with the scent of urine. Male urine. Nothing she had commonly been this close to before.It made her think of what she was doing, what she was really doing, and what she was becoming. She continued to drink and drink, each swallow becoming more effortless then the last, but still her mouth. Tonight we are meeting at a dark and smoky Jazz Bar, around the corner from his place. I’m finally ready to leave, I’m late as I was having trouble with what to wear. A short black skirt, a form fitting white blouse buttoned to just that right spot, where you see the voluptuous swell of hills and the start of a deep valley. You know just enough to show the black lace edge of my bra. And of course killer high heeled pointed shoes. As I enter the bar I’m hit with everything all at once, my senses. When it was fired, the ends moved forward as the bow straightened out, taking the bowstring and the arrows with it.So far, so good, right? Once the bow had straightened it wanted to continue moving forward. If the frame wasn’t staked down, the whole thing jerked forward a foot or so which wasn’t a problem, but the prod was always damaged and couldn’t hold the bow still. If the frame WAS staked down, the bow simply ripped free.They needed a metal clamp to hold the bow in place. Steel would be. She then put her finger between the two cups of ther bra and snapped it off. Geneviève was topless. Isabelle took off her own blouse and bra. Geneviève undid her skirt and so did Isabelle. Both removed their panties. As soon as they were naked, the two women yelled and clashed. Heads bumped, arms joined around backs and pulled, tits were slapped and squeezed. Locked in a hair-pulling match, they whispered threats to each other’s face. Spitting. They finally fell to the floor, each driving her.