I let it sit while I recovered my day old coffee from the microwave.So much time passed while I did that chore, that I was jealous when Janet come int... the kitchen with her cinnamon bun. She washed it down with orange juice made from concentrate.“Since I brought a can of coffee grounds, can I have a cup of your fresh coffee?” she asked when the bun was gone.“Sure as long as you brew the next pot, and put it in the aging jar,” I said. The aging jar was actually an iced tea pitcher with an ‘x’ on. Making plans for dinner, Mike is the first to mention Les.“Do you think we should invite Les for some drinks and maybe some playtime?” Mike asks Jaycee“Yes, I can send him a text to see if he has plans,” Jaycee replies as she is composing a text to Les.Les immediately replies that he would love to join them this evening. He must meet with clients over dinner, but he will join Mike and Jaycee when he’s free.With that, Mike and Jaycee go to their cottage to get ready for dinner. As they are. Yellow-brown, like the earthy pigment of raw sienna, or a crystal blue like the open waters of the Mediterranean. Wide and wondrously inquisitive, reticent when she wants them to be, but boisterous and unafraid.I slide my middle finger inside me, trapping my swelling clit under the butt of my palm, pressing. My other hand pulls my shirt up, just enough to crescent over the top of my tits. Now bare and exposed, I take pleasure in the silky softness of my left breast, squeezing and raking my dark. Some had been caught in workplace affairs, some had stolen from the company, and one guy was fired for repeatedly lying about being ill when he was actually fishing.The rumor was that before he canned him, Art told the man he could understand him going fishing rather than going to work. Art had been known to take a few afternoons off in trout season himself. He just couldn't tolerate the man lying about it.As I mulled my situation over, I decided I needed to come up with a plan for damage.