In response, another harsh slap to the face. "You fucking pervert. Hurry up and finish already." She didn't have to tell me to do so as I was getting ...uite close, but I still enjoyed it. "Mmm..." An unintentional moan escaped my lips as jerked off. I squirmed heavily in my spot as I could feel myself ready to explode. "Oh yeah, that's it. Shoot that fucking load all over me," Natalie said. She uncrossed her arms and put her hands under her small breasts, squeezing them and pushing them. Then there were the Tourheads, or the professional Deadheads as I came to call them. These were the people whose entire musical catalog was Grateful Dead albums and bootlegs tapes, or Dead influences, such as Coltrane and Charlie Christian. These were the people who traveled all over the country trying to see every Dead show they could.Maggie, I quickly learned, was a Tourhead. She'd actually gone to high school with Bob Weir and, I suspect, had spent a few nights in one or the other band. Finally Steve could resist no longer; gripping one large breast he lowered his mouth over the raspberry bud of a nipple. Licking and sucking, nipping and teasing, his lips and tongue worked over first one and then the other nipple until they were rock hard and protruding even more. Taking a deep breath, he buried his face in her chest, pressing the warm mounds of her breasts against his cheeks and nuzzling her cleavage. Pulling back he gazed into her face and smiled with his heart full of. She surprised me by giving me a hug before returning home, leaving a lingering strawberry scent. I went inside and couldn’t get her aroma, smile, accent, and beautiful ass off of my mind. I was going to go straight to my bedroom and grab my vibrator, imagining the outgoing lady joining our small circle of lesbian friends. I opened my nightstand disappointed that it wasn’t there, completely forgetting that I left it over at Laurie’s. I sat on the bed briefly figuring it was something I could.