His fingers travel through the silken locks of her brown neatly trimmed bush as she moans as sign of assent that he should continue. Parting her outer...lips, his finger slips in with little effort. Is it the water that has made her so, or is it her own wetness. He feels a slicker fluid in her and he leans down to nuzzle her neck again. She giggles like a little girl and shrugs her shoulders at the way his beard and moustache tickle her. But soon that changes as a second finger enters her cleft. That skirt is now dangerously high.Why had you done it? It just seems like a day to take risks. No panties. He’s looking and you cross your legs the other way.“I know it’s rude, but there’s an article on the front page of your paper – do you mind if I look,” you hear yourself say.“Not at all, feel free.”He starts to stand to bring the paper to you but you beat him to it and get to his table. You sit opposite him avidly reading nothing. A stocking clad foot slips out of your shoe and brushes his. More

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