And anyway, what could happen in this tiny backseat. So you can imagine how shocked I was suddenly to feel a hand stroking the inside of my thigh. I...saw Bryan looking at me in the rearview mirror, but he was looking at what I wanted him too, my boobs hanging half out of the tiny camisole. I saw Pattie look, too, but I frankly didn't care at the moment. I had to quickly decide about the hand. I realized from the position of the guys in the car that the hand fondling the inside of my thigh had. “ Break’s over, babe,” was all he said, slipping his powerful frame up through the door and closing it behind himself. I watched him disappear around the corner of the parking lot back toward the bar, my legs pulled in against myself, my hands slowly cupping my own mammoth melons, feeling the warm cum in my deep cleavage. The weekend skittered by like a bore, my body tingling all the while, remembering the simple phrase 'eighteen inch fuck tool'. It reverberated in my memory through. More

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