But if I were there doing stuff and Stacy wasn't, she'd tease me.I guess she was interested. I also guess she was flattered by my attentions-because I...'d stopped trying to hide them. She'd be out in the bikini, and I openly ogled. She didn't seem to mind.And, in hindsight, I guess she was waiting for something-Stacy's departure. Every year, at the end of July, Stacy went away for two weeks, to visit her father, who lived a couple states away. Stacy, I had found out, adored her father.A week. " She smiled sweetly. He did not seem to know what to say next. Magan meanwhile looked even more nervous, now that some one was close by and could see Sandra's hand...on her thigh, almost under her skirt. What could she do, what should she do? Sandra was pretty much running on autopilot... all she could think of doing was the things her darker subconscious wanted to happen to herself... and so, letting her hand almost move itself, she slid it further up Magan's thigh, pushing up her skirt. He told me that he wanted to touch it. ‘I’ve never touched one, except mine,’ he said, ‘can I…..?’ Who was I to refuse, and guided my hard cock through the hole Ian had fashioned in the cubicle wall. He gingerly reached for it, holding the end gently but firmly and slowly began to glide his fingers forward and back down the shaft. I murmured that it felt good, and that he shouldn’t go any faster. I pulled back after a minute or so of this, Ian must have understood, as his cock came through the. "No, no, no! I don't want to do that," she said to herself over and over for half the afternoon. But as she tried to close the zipper on the first pair of jeans, they were just simply too tight, and the knuckle of her thumb rubbed right across her clit as she pulled the zipper up. It was exactly the wrong thing to have happen at that moment. All of the stresses as well as the memories of him and everything about him converged in her groin. Her legs clamped together, her face flushed and she.