My lips slide down his never-ending cock. His tongue flicks at my clit. I moan. He grunts. My body prepares. I know I will cum. Soon. I know he will cum. Soon.I’m in another room. I can hear voices. Distant voices. There are so many voices all night, but few of them can be made out. All is dark, but I am not alone.It must be early in the evening, because I am still dressed. I am standing. My breasts are being touched through the silk of my blouse. My bottom is being fondled through my lamé skirt. There is hot breath on my neck. A hand is touching the inside of my thigh, where stocking top gives way to skin.All is dark. I do not know how many people are in the room with me, but I sense there are a number. They are touching me. Hands grope and fondle. There is hot breath on my neck. My ponytail is twisted round fingers. Other fingers grip my wrist.My hand lands on skin. Male skin. I can tell because of the fuzz of hair against my fingertips. The man must be prostrate. I understand that. He watched the pair drawing nearer, the man in slacks and tee shirt, the woman in a light summer dress, and both obviously soaked to the skin. Then, as they drew closer, he saw that it was not a couple, but two young women, the one in slacks that he had mistaken for a man was simply taller and with short hair. Why in Gods name would two women be out alone on the moor in a thunderstorm? ‘Hey, come in and shelter!’ He called to them as they came closer. His words were lost as another peal of thunder caused the women to flinch and hunch their heads further. ‘Hey! Here!’ He bellowed this time, determined to be heard above the rain. The taller of the pair looked around sharply, startled by his voice, and he waved his arms to attract her attention. Spotting the movement, she tugged urgently on her companion’s arm and both now looked in his direction. He beckoned them over. Splashing through the stream that was once a road and instinctively ducking a lightning flash, the two hurriedly made.
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