Bizarrely, though, he wasn't after sex. With one hand on my crotch, fingering my pussy and teasing my clit, he said, "You remember that fantasy you we...e telling me about?"I laughed. "Which one?" The one about being a glory hole slut." Oh, that one," I said. "I certainly do."He pointed at the garden fence next to us, a tall pine fence with no gaps, but there was a gate that opened into the narrow lane that ran between Graham's garden and the neighbour's. And something I had never seen - or at. . began to like it." She twisted in her chair, then looked at Helen, wetness blurring her vision. "But only a little bit, Helen," she lied. "Only a little bit, and when it was over and I'd collected my senses, I was sick about it!" Yes, yes, I understand," Helen said in a soothing voice. She then poured herself a little more wine and sighed. She thought of the best way of handling the matter, of trying to calm the near hysterical girl so that a greater crisis would be averted. She could almost. More

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