I envied that jacket she wore with the modest neckline who’s only function was to cover a curvy and delicious form. I went in got myself a couple of...shots and then I asked if I could sit next to her for which she agreed as time passed we started talking, she told me she worked there as a bartender mixing drinks and she was about to leave as her part of the night was done. She stood and said she is going to leave, as she stood up I got to see her curvy body which looked like a hourglass I got. After she'd gone to bed, she'd lain there and masturbated herself to sleep. But when she'd woken in the morning her lust had faded and been repressed, and (as lust often does) had magically turned itself into guilt. Ever since then she'd been castigating herself - flaying herself with an imaginary birch twig - and showing herself what a terrible thing she'd done. She was now explaining to herself in no uncertain terms that not only must she never let it happen again, but she must seek to undo. She was almost whining, cooing over and over as I slammed into her.She was so wet that there was now a splashing noise every time I buried myself to the hilt, her pussy practically sucking my cock back in. I saw her try to concentrate as she dialed the phone, her eyes repeatedly rolling back into her head.‘Fuck me, Jay’, she screamed, ‘Fuck me so he hears !’She put the phone on speaker, setting it next to her bed on the end table. Reaching up, she pulled me into a long. Michael patted each knee, and the two rushed over, sat, and tucked their heads into his neck.“What’s troubling my two ladies?” he probed.“Abigail is hurting for a friend,” started Vicky. “I told her that she could ask, and maybe you could fix it -- or at least help.”“Oooookay,” Michael oozed into the problem, “What kind of magic do you think I can work?’“My friend, Ayesha Nagi,” Abigail started in a rush, “came from a small village somewhere in the mid-east four years ago. Just before I was.
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