I stroked for a few seconds, and then lifted the finger to my mouth, savoring my juice and wishing it was Laura's. Tickling my tongue with my finger, ... sensed an orgasm with my touch—a touch I knew with expertise.My velvet spoke in want of the need for my fingers, begging in a silent prayer. My fingers became a savior as they sated a sinner's need. The shock of the fingers entering my pussy sent stinging bites through my body. Stroking with conviction for several minutes, my climax readied for. People have piled out the station with me walking down the roads home too. I’m thinking about my evening as I stroll, thinking how closely I was dancing with some older men tonight, men with wedding rings and greying hair dancing close to me, feeling my ass bump and rub against their crotch. Purposely exciting many men, and feeling my pussy get wetter the naughtier I act. Absentmindedly my hand has worked its way down to my legs; I’m stroking my exposed thigh. As I reach I bus-stop I stop to. More

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