You'd think those two had known each other
for years. Not old buddy stuff, more like business acquaintances. But I'm
sure they aren't. I've not the foggiest idea what they said. I stumbled into
a big padded chair and tried to ignore the stares coming from all around. I
was in grave danger of leaving a tell tale snail's trail on the leather
cushion. Semen was already seeping through my skirt. Thank god for black.
The bar waiter appeared beside me ,three inches from my face, asking what
I'd like to drink. He was smelling me I know. He was very young. Still had
pimples. But I had this strange urge to pull him to his knees and shove his
face into my crotch. Too tired though to even finish the thought. Refused a
drink. Wanted to get the hell out of there.  B and Bob. I thought they'd
never finish their rituals. Bob finally stoops down and gives me a peck on
the cheek and a squeeze on the arm. He looks very pleased with himself. B
looks at me. He's trying to supress his amazement. Enjoyed that. Now we're
all strolling back to the main foyer. In my case a hobble. Another hug.
More waves. Bob's gone.  There is now major moisture action down the inside
of my left leg, which threatens the the effectiveness of the stay-up
stocking. The towlling belt is coming untied too. I'm desperate to get to
the lift.  We make it. There's no one else in it. The doors close, B hugs me
, and so I burst into tears.  Sobbing continues all the way to our room. B's
already very excited however and he's started feeling the wet bits in the
lift. I can't stop the tears. I am saying a whole lot of dumb things but B
is gently but firmly pushing our way into the room.  My skirt is off . (
He's a bloody expert at all undoing). The panties and belt are there. I 'm
still sobbing uncontrollably. I don't want to lose him. He must forgive me!
He must! ( Why do I think its my fault goddamn!) There is no wasting of time
however. On hands and knees.  My face is buried in the duvet and there is a
big familiar cock squelching its way ito its rightful place.The rythym takes
over and soon we have a very big rattle. ( Bob pumped a fair bit of fluid
but he didn't make me cum.)  For the rest of the night B hugged me and
stroked me while I cried and raved and then slept. When I woke B was still
holding me . My first movement told me that I still had my panties on .
Stuck on well and truly. B was up quickly and taking them off. ( Even put
them in a plastic bag- a real pervert!) Then he insisted on taking some nude
photos. I couldn't be bothered protesting so let him, even though I felt and
looked a complete mess!! . B has sent some to Dan at Mennews but he is not
allowed to post any of the sticky ones.    After a long bath  and a
brilliant massage from B we spent the rest of the day eating out and talking
about everthing under the sun except what had happened with Bob.   We'd
missed the dinner date the night before but B didn't care.   In the evening
we had some more good sex. B took the shots of me in black garter dress with
pink flower accents. Then it was home the next day and back to the routine
of jobs and family.   I was at the doctors first thing though. A couple of
anxious days. But all clear. We now have a new running gag about an
imaginary friend called Bob.  " ...Now I wonder what Bob would think about
that? Any ideas honey?..."     The kids have picked it up too!! Funny though
we haven't really talked about the whole thing at all. Sex has been good
since but.