. have plans for us later on.”“You do, do you?” She laid her hand on mine. It wasn’t a move a mother usually makes with her son and people not...ced. “Maybe for tonight you can call me Rachel?”“Mom ... Rachel, your hand. People are watching.”Oh,” she said and slowly withdrew her hand and picked up a napkin and dabbed at her left eye as if she’d been crying.A trio had been setting up to play and their leader called out that although the dance floor was small, we were all welcome to use it, and. “Come on,” she squealed, running off towards the sea, “if you catch me you can fuck me.”Jack laughed, “fuck” had become a favourite word of hers when she was feeling randy, which seemed to be just about all the time, not that Jack was complaining.He took off after her, his erection bobbing as he ran, he thought he must have looked liked something in one of those lewd cartoons he saw in men’s magazines.Angela was already waist deep in the surf, splashing and squealing, when he finally caught. I am feeling cheeky so wear a maxi dress but no underwear. I don't tell my husband but while we are out drop a fork on the floor under the table and ask him to get it for me, while he is under the table I lift my dress and flash him. He reaches under my dress and moves his hand up my warm thigh and slips his finger into my wet pussy. When he comes back up to the table his face is flushed and I can tell that he is excited. During the meal he reaches under my dress to slip a finger in more and. I imagined him kneeling in front of me, hiking up my skirt over my milky thighs and full hips, dipping his face into my wet heat and taking a big whiff of my womanhood. I shivered as I felt his tongue stab at my clit, which was straining against the thin fabric. Begging to be touched, licked, and bitten. He grunted as he pushed my legs to a wider stance. He ran a finger down my lips and I felt myself shudder with anticipation of him pushing his fat, wrinkled fingers into my tight hole. I felt.