Sensible flat shoes. Black crew-neck sweater. White blouse under neath. Breasts looked about 34b. She was slim with good legs. Short blonde hair, done... in cheap Eastern European style.She still had the defiant look on her face. She offered me more money to do it her way. But I brushed it aside. I ordered a long cigar and smoked and watched her through the smoke. Savouring her obvious discomfort. I dropped my napkin. When I bent down to pick it up I peeked at her legs. They were clamped tight. It was great, wandering around the Lanes, eating fish and chipsand seeing a great band on the Saturday night, so it was no surprise thatit became fairly regular again. Probably the best one was that we had tosee who could get the furthest from London and back by Sunday night,without spending more than ?25 and without using a plane. It was agreedthat we'd meet up at the Kings Head on the Sunday night with proof. Brianhad won that one hands down, by chance having hitched a lift with a guywho was. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had been hoping that he would be satisfied with groping her but now it was obvious that he planned to fuck her before he was through. He turned her, forcing her hand out of his pants and demanded that she grab the support bar with her other hand as well. Doing so left her bent forward, her tight ass sticking out as though in invitation. "that's it slut! Beg me to fuck that sweet ass of your" he laughed as he flipped her skirt up and pulled her panties. The tip of my cock nudged against her cervix while the ring of muscles gripped me at its base. I gave Emily some time to get used to having me inside her, then pulled out a little and pushed back in.She whimpered softly and looked at me with her beautiful big eyes, telling me to go on, to keep fucking her. The wet noises of our coupling were all but drowned out by her ragged breathing and soft little moans. Her pussy seemed to cling to my cock every time I moved out, as if her body was.