It didn't matter, because Brenda was fast getting off anyway.Every time she pushed in, Brenda would arch her back, pushing her pelvis up in an attempt...to get more of April's fingers in.She was almost there, when April just stopped. Brenda moaned and looked at up April, the naked lust in her eyes, pleading for release.April smiled lustfully at her and without breaking eye contact she pushed Brenda's legs apart, and, pulling her self up on the bed, slowly lowered herself so her head was between. Enough had happened, in fact, not to mention the nature of those happenings, that one might even expect Bob to suffer from some kind of PTSD. Of course it wasn't post. Not yet. It was ongoing. Perhaps his memory of that first time was more like combat fatigue. But then they've decided that combat fatigue was PTSD before anybody knew it was PTSD.In any case, Bob didn't remember much clearly when it was "over."He did remember staring at those forest green nipples, perched on breasts that looked. She asked me to open my eyes, oh my She looked extremely sexy and my cock was throbbing looking at her that way, she had full breasts which were more than a handful and she had a very round and a sexy butt which was the best part of her body, she went over to the music system and turned on the music and she came to me slowly and started dancing in front of me, she started grinding her ass and took my tee off, then she started sucking my nipples, that was the best feeling I had felt, I felt my. Que sera, etc.’ She wandered off, subdued, leaving me to try to concentrate on my own work. While I might have sounded resigned, phlegmatic and unworried, I felt anything but. I could see a real prospect of history repeating itself in some way and it depressed me. Zena made no further comment on the way home, which if anything made things worse. She could have said there was little likelihood of Connie drifting away or finding someone else, but she didn’t, and so I was feeling depressed and.