I finished and peeked out the door and back into the bedroom but could find nothing to wear. 'Oh well, ' I said to myself, might as well walk out nake... anyone who is still out there has seen me with several dogs mounted on my back so a little nudity isn't going to make a difference,I walked down a hall and into the living room which was still a shambles from last night. I could see even the pad I had been clipped to was still in place and seeing all the dried cumm on the pad under where my ass. Some guys will double back for a second look in the park, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about bailing them up in a confined space where they can't help but look. The Sydney trains are probably my favourite. Loose fitting tops in peak hour when you have to stand are good, but short skirts in those seats that face each other are by far the best. I like to pick out a guy who doesn't look all young and dumb and full of cum; no sir, give me a young, studious-looking guy. A little bit. ‘How much. . .’ ‘Hundred or so.’ Not knowing her desperation I retorted, ‘Go ask your Mommy.’ That hurt her and she began to withdraw. ‘I’ll fuck you!’ She was reaching. ‘IRS beat you two it kid, excuse me.’ I started to fold the paper. ‘I’ll scream rape.’ ‘Let me plug my ears.’ She muttered something that almost made me blush, effectively dispensing the last vestiges of my sympathy, and I stood as best I could to seek refuge at the park just around the corner. Maybe my local chatting. She could do this. She could make it through the day as long as she didn’t look at him. Turning back to her desk, she realized her skirt had caught on the arm of her chair and she had been exposing quite a bit of her right thigh to him the entire time they were talking. Could that have made him nervous? Probably not. Despite their occasional teasing, she knew that he was married and probably not interested. Emma was married, too, and shouldn’t be interested, but something about him was.