We can work that out I am sure.”I could tell he was very pleased he had come up with something that might help me.He went over to sit in the chair b...hind the desk. I went over to sit on the straight plastic chair by the wall. We both seemed to just stare off into space. Everything went quiet. Time slowed to a creep. This was going to be a long thirty minutes for sure.Neither of us said a thing. He looked at the far corner of the room: I looked down at my lap.As time passed my crazy mind started. Jared's mind cast itself back over the events of dinner. Had that really happened? Had his mom really sucked his cock and fucked herself on it? No, nothing could have felt that good, he surmised. There was no way his mom had wrapped those succulent, shiny lips around the head of his cock, nursing and nibbling until he blasted a load of semen all over her face and tits. No way she'd rammed his dick into the wet, velvety fist of her cunt, milking him for a second time. His prick, erect already,. Even when she was Claire's age,fifteen years prior, she knew that she never had the thin legs to pulloff the black, skater miniskirt that Claire had paired with her tightsand black pumps that morning.Freddie struck her own pose with a hand on her pink, jersey dress-covered right hip. Her hips were wider than any of the other girls inthe office, and her slightly below the knee hem that rested over herblack sheer pantyhose covered legs was longer than the others' as well.Jocelyn grinned at the. He too obviously spent quite a bit of time in the gym. “Bonjour Madame Jean. Je m'appelle Phillipe.”“Bonjour Phillipe,” I said.“You are Americaine?” He tried in highly accented English.“Yes, I am,” I conceded, embarrassed that he could tell so easily. He handed me a towel and motioned me to the nearest table. “For privacy,” he stated.Now I was really embarrassed and a little bit angry. Did he offer me the towel to cover up during the massage because I am an American? Harkening to my desire.