Punchline and I ordered ten-dollar beers, and I approached the first attractive woman I saw: a 5’11 blonde dressed in all pink, big rack, slim waste... perfect skin—a 9 at least. I’d given up on being normal; I tried it, but it just wasn’t me. I stood in front of her, pointed to her feet, and began, “Are you American?” She smiled. “No, why?" “I’ve never seen a Danish girl whose toenails were painted blue.” Five minutes later we were making out. Her name was Caroline. She was thirty-three and. At this point she took one of her own fingers and inserted in her own cunt next to mine – three fingers inside her, one rubbing against my two as she fucked herself to a wet slurping sound. I naturally followed, so we were each fucking and masturbating at the same time. It looked amazing in the mirror, fingers on ourselves and in each other, slowly moving in and out, pussy juices flowing freely, dribbling down onto the mirror.Cloudy images of fingers in cunts aroused me even more, and I hoped. More

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