That was when I felt her hands on my buttocks. My short, pleated cotton skirt was around my waist and she was almost desperately pulling me into her. ... had one hand free and I stroked it down her side and then pushed it between us and into the warm space between her thighs. Her only response was to tighten her grip on my arse. She felt damp through the thin covering of her thong, and I could easily trace the outline of her pussy with my fingers. I sensed a hand slide over my arse cheek and dip. “Yes, alright.” I settled for being insane. “Please. Thank you Henri.”So I went to see his wife Martine, who was lovely, and she gave me a programme to follow, and the testosterone. It seemed to me it was a bit dodgy what she and Henri were doing with testosterone in a ski team, but I kept those thoughts to myself; I supposed inter-resort competition could get quite intense but they weren’t tested? Or perhaps it was to speed up healing from injuries? Anyway for me and my clit it sounded doable.. More

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