One set of fingers slid through the groove between the cheeks of her backside. Another hand probed the length of her gash. Unbeknown to her the men co...nstantly changed places until all except Bob had fondled a vacant part of her body. Bob just watched until he could no longer tolerate just being the voyeur. Watched carefully by The Master he moved forward and lightly stroked his fingers through the open cleft of his wife’s cunt. She was hot, wet and swollen. He stepped away and continued to. But that doesn't change anything. Doesn't change that he wanted to be here - between her legs, the lace tops of the stockings tickling his shoulders, ears and biceps - hours ago. It doesn't make him rush.He devours her. Licking and sucking at her. Making her wiggle and beg. He nibbles and teases until they're both breathless and throbbing. And then he pushes her further, burying and curling his fingers inside of her."Sammy..." she fusses. "Please..."He kisses her, letting her taste herself on. "What's wrong? No other dykes to eat with... or eat?" Ashley's voice was getting louder. Students at nearby tables were now looking over and joining in the laughter. Her face burning, Karen stumbled to her feet and fled the table, leaving her tray of food behind."Come back anytime," Ashley called after her. "Feel free to bring your girlfriend." The entire section the cafeteria was laughing now, as Karen, now in tears, burst through the exit and disappeared from view.At a table near the door,. It’s also fascinating how each of us responds to different types of touch, and I’m only talking about touching the dick. For some of us, incredibly light touch is incredibly erotic while a heavy grip is right up their with suffocation. For others, it’s the opposite: softness is bland and doesn’t register, instead needing a solid meaty stroke.Those preferences for sensation can inhibit us, preventing us from being able to engage more fully in eroticism. Preference for sensation can prohibit us.