Why do you have to be so nasty? She replied. You know I have a lot of things I’d rather be doing also, but I’m not acting like a jerk. Just make...the best of it. I paused and thought she’s right. No matter what I’m on this boat for a week. Just suck it up. Sorry, your right I said as I finished my drink. You want another? Sure she replied. I ordered another round and came back to the table. We dipped our drinks and chatted about what we would be doing if we were home. We ended up. But, oh, my! Gabriella played hard, and she was no delicate flower. She would sweat through her tennis outfit before even the first set was completed. She didn't dress provocatively, but she didn't have to. Every match in reasonably warm weather turned into a wet t-shirt contest for Gabriella, and (in my twelve-year-old imagination), she always won.Gabriella had been all woman, and very hot. But Tess! Put Tess in a soaking wet shirt and you were going to have a riot on your hands!And, damn it,. You need to teach my wife how to do that.” Alex said.I was hornier than ever when Alex also won the third quarter but he said Mike could have his turn.I made Mike stand up while I slowly undressed him. Then I made him lay on the floor while I stroked his cock. “I need some attention,” I said. I slid up his chest and lowered myself on his face, my leather miniskirt completely hiding him. I felt his tongue on my pussy and I leaned into his face. His tongue licked up one side of my pussy and down. But some little boy had scratched his name into wet cement. I could easily imagine Dag having done the same kind of thing when he was a child. These streets were his home. He probably grew up near this very place. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t making a saint out of him and revering the neighborhood he grew up in. But it really got to me that this was his neighborhood and his neighbors would want to know about him.I quickened my steps back to the Swedish American Center, took my knäckebröd.