He was wearing a short bath robe, and it wasall I could do at that point to stop myself from reaching out andgrabbing his cock beneath his robe. ..."Um, I dunno, Mom," he said. "Looks like jizz to me," I said, intending to shock him. It did. He stood there, open-mouthed, his face red. He suddenlystarted paying close attention to some of the things on his desk. "Is it?" I asked. He shrugged, not looking at me. "Yeah, OK, it's jizz," he said. "Good," I said. "I like. That's much better," I said to her.My buddy chuckled and grasped her panties. "Yeah, she's a helpful little pussycat," he pointed out. He effortlessly slid off the soft blue underwear. "A really naughty and playful one, too." Well, yeah," she agreed, reaching forward and grabbing my friend's underwear then sliding them off, allowing his dick to pulse free of the restriction forced upon it by his undergarments. He had caught some of the excitement, too, it seemed. "What fun is fucking if. It felt more like he was making sure I didn't try going after Anasia myself. And he was right to worry.There was still ten minutes left of class, but I left the floor anyway and headed for the shower. I was no fit company and I suddenly felt drained. It was a mental exhaustion as opposed to being worn out from my martial arts class, the weight of loss and frustration bogging me down. I'd failed to protect my mate. Regardless of who was more powerful and the circumstances, I'd failed to stop. It seems…”“Dirty?”“No. not dirty. But it’s like we would be feeding into that same dynamic as porn. Giving each other visuals…isn’t it reducing our bodies to objects? Am I not just becoming a source of your masturbation fantasies? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just Google…”“Google what? Videos of beautiful ex-patriate Canadian women living abroad who masturbate on camera for friends from thirty years before? Like that’s a thing, right?”“Fuck off! You know what I mean.”“Actually, no. I don’t..