" Okay, whatever."We played; she won.As I was bent over, panting, she said, "Okay, give me your shirt." Huh?" You said whatever. So give me your tank ...top." She had that mischevious smile again. So I gave it to her. I told her that it helped me out anyway, the heat was almost unbearable. We played again. She won again. "This time, you can hand over those shorts. I'm going to clean you out."I whipped them off and threw them at her face. She ducked away playfully while I tried to hide my now fully. When I looked I could see how she’d soaked through that part of her bathing suit, probably while I’d been stroking her breasts.“Take the bottoms off,” I told her. “Wash them off over the side. You are wet – very wet.”Marcia allowed, “I’ve never gushed like this before, but then I’ve never been in a small boat with a hunky man who I like a great deal and who’s ... doing things to me – sexual things.”Marcia pushed the bikini bottoms down her legs and off. She rinsed them in the ocean water. Whereas he had the money, the ability to plan and the high-profile network of contacts, Lars was precious for his muscle, his lightning-fast read of a situation, and an apparently endless supply of desperados friends. People without any family link, often with marred reputations and dirty criminal records. But still, very loyal to the hand that fed them, unlikely to ask too many questions, and rugged enough to withstand a life of confinement in a platform in the middle of the ocean. Lars. They walked gingerly. He could see the huge toys ease themselves out as they made their way from stair to stair, and ease themselves back in as they alternated steps. They were both struggling hard to contain themselves, as was he. He instinctively reached for his swollen cock and stroked it, watching both girls struggle with their asses filled to the brim. He could hear gunshots through the walls of the building, at least a couple of blocks away. But this couldn't tear his eyes from the.