‘I love that music, but I can’t identify it. Jazz? Classical, flamenco?’ asked Sandra. She rotated her head to find the source. ‘Rumanian gyps... music, from émigrés living in Paris,’ he said. ‘Everybody in my shop was born in Rumania. We all remember the place. You know, love-hate,’ he said. Sandra nodded sympathetically. ‘You can take the boy out of Rumania, but you can’t take Rumania out of the boy,’ she said, touching his arm. ‘Something like that. We like to keep music going during the day.. . "... and he leaves me so frustrated, Damn it! In the times we've been together I've only had one orgasm, that first time. I really think it must have been an accident. He never seems to care about my needs, only his own. Damn it!"Her arm was around my waist, her head on my shoulder as we talked, or rather; she talked and I listened, making small appropriate sounds and non-committal comments here and there. As she finished I hugged her close once again and kissed her forehead, whispering, "He. Sue's robe was open and Judy looked lovingly at her to see her curves. The outline of her breasts, her nipples that were so suckable and her tummy with its soft white skin. Faint traces of her bush could be seen and then Judy looked up to the intense look of concentration on Susie's face. She was staring at Judy to make out the movement of her fingers splashing gently against the surface of the water between her long smooth legs. Judy was lying back in the bath, just beginning to pleasure. I nearly came right then and there as I watched several strands of spit stretch from the top of my cock to her braces. This was incredible. I reached up and guided her face to mine and kissed her. Her groan of pleasure my reward as I felt my cock get even harder from tasting myself in her kiss. Her pants hit the floor as she straddled me, and I, grabbing her hips, guided her smooth thighs around me and her soaked pussy against my cock. She ground up and down, rubbing the folds of her pussy on.