I watched the tell-tale movement of Justine’s little skirt as I paraded in front of the mirror. My shaved, itchy cock was throbbing and the skirt tw...tched with its every movement. I rubbed my cock through the skirt, imagining it was Justine’s hand. It wasn’t enough, so I grabbed it fully and wanked with a mixture of knickers and skirt encasing the shaft and head. It felt all kinds of wonderful. In the mirror I could see a dark patch starting to show on the grey of Justine’s skirt exposing. It wasn't very tasty, the meat being chewy and obviously something of a lesser cut. My father thought it might have been horse meat. The bread was homemade, and not bad at all with the thick slabs of butter that we all favored on it. They didn't serve any beer or alcohol, so we were all drinking cream sodas. Ray was flirting with our waitress rather shamelessly, and she seemed to be enjoying it too. Her name was Janet, and she was probably about twenty two years old. It might have all ended. More

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