That Is What I Said, But I Really Don't Think...

“Yes, I'm sure. My name is Justine. And you are?” “I'm Steve,” he extends a hand. “And it would be my pleasure to join you for lunch. That's a lovely dress you’re wearing, by the way.” “Thank you, Steve. I was thinking a similar thought about you. Your suit is very well tailored. It really shows off your nicest feature,” I smile. “You’re so kind,” he smiles as he opens the restaurant door for me. “Well, here we are.” “I’m not kind," I wink and laugh. "I'm horny." Steve begins to stammer. “I…” He coughs. ”Ummm. OK.” “Do I make you nervous, Steve? You look like a successful, confident businessman. Surely you don't become ruffled when a woman tells you she wants to share a sandwich with you. Or when she says that after lunch she wants us to eat each other for dessert?” “Ummm.” Steve looks around uncomfortably. “I was just taken aback a little bit. Let's have lunch and see how it goes.” I start to feel annoyed again. “See how it goes? You don't want to fuck me, Steve?” I. Her was staring right into the opening. Ellen decided to go for it all, risking losing Beth to pureembarrassment, but knowing that if she was successful, no barriers would beleft. She moved her hand along the inside of Beth's now spread legs, allthe way to her hair-filled crotch. She ran the index fingers of her handsalong each side of the exposed pussy lips, pressing softly into the poutingflesh. Beth moaned again. Ellen went for the kill, moving her fingersinto the cuntal crack and slowly parting the labia, obscenely exposing thestill moist (even more moist than before) vaginal entrance and the engorgedclitoral hood. It was a bold move on Ellen's part, but the foreplay had left Beth ina transfixed mood, her modesty long forgotten. Ellen knew she had won, andplanted the victory flag by running two fingers into the pink divide andeasing them right into the naturally lubricated cuntal opening. Bethgasped out loud as she felt the fingers enter her. Bill and I.
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