What good wouldcomplaining do? He was enough of a target already. He looked around and tried to judge, how many? Maybe a hundred, hundredand fifty? Th...n he subdivided the people who hated him... maybe twenty orso. Those indifferent, oh... nearly the rest. Sort of friends or at leastfriendly; well maybe a dozen or so. So how many did that leave? Did hehave any friends? Hmm, I guess Mike, Pete and maybe Jen. At least theytalked to him and tried to involve him in stuff. Funny, he'd used to be. She grinned, looking me in the eye, then down to my engorged helmet. 'Was that my fault?' she asked.I blushed and mumbled something about white shorts and her hot arse.She bit her lower lip. 'Well I got you into this mess,' she said, 'only fair I help you out.' and with that she turned her back to me, bent over and started rubbing her hands over he arse cheeks. The thin fabric creased between her legs, and I could see the sweat stains in her groin, and another spot of wetness starting to grow. More

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