I turned into Sandy and gave her a kiss. As I did this I could see over her shoulder and there was Gretchen at the foot of the stairs kind of peeking...around the partition at us. I don't know what wickedness posessed me but I looked straight at Gretchen as I said "I want to feel your mouth on my cock." Sandy agreed and I knelt on the futon and Sandy got on her knees in front of me. My cock was rock hard and Sandy started sucking on it. To my amazement. Gretchen was still standing there. Their conversation was mainly about physical escapades so myself and Caley drifted away, both rolling our eyes at the quite frankly boring conversation.Caley spoke first, "Can you believe that two people could talk about exercise routines in the middle of a nightclub?"I had to laugh, "I struggle to talk about exercise even when I'm sitting in front of the TV eating pizza."Thankfully she laughed. And she looked stunning when she laughed.Caley was actually half West Indian, half British. Her Dad. "You have an unbelievably sexy body," he said, staring into my eyes, "and a face to match. It would be a real pleasure to take you home." I had opened for him entirely, let him assume I was his for the taking. I hadn't made one move to stop his enjoyment of my body. And I was in deep, deep trouble. I realized the only way out of this dilemma was some semblance of truth. I told him that the "guy I knew" was actually my husband and that he insisted on taking me out to show me off and that he. “Look at that! They came out just perfect.”She winked. Herb ran. He thought he could still hear her laughing all the way home.*Willie Beaser ran up the steps of the Brookwood house two of the time and pounded on the door. Miss Brookwood answered in less than a second. “Hi, Miss Brookwood!” he said. “My dad said I could come back!”“Did he? What lovely news. Come right in.”The library was full of kids. Willie shucked off his backpack and added it to a pile by the door. “Are the cookies still.