Instead, I wait until she gets into her rythm, a bit too eager to thrust back. I slow down and pull out my fingers. I spank her again, hand wet from h...er juices. She yelps, she mewls, she wriggles, she whines - and I just keep going. - No-! ooh-- uh, no… ah! … ah! … pleaaa-se... hn- please- stop- …I wish she would just admit her desperation. I wish she would give in, say she can’t take it anymore, beg me to stop and to take her. I hope I am giving her wet dreams. I hope whoever is the boy she. Dave Halleran poured a little more oil into his hand and then continued massaging his wife's right calf, working his fingers deep into the muscles."Mmmm," said Sally. "That's very good." Almost done," he said. He had been massaging her for almost an hour, starting with her neck and working his way down, and his arms and shoulders ached."Remember, you have to spend plenty of time on my feet," said Sally. "It's in my instructions." I'm going to be so stiff tomorrow morning I'll need a massage. She was one of a pair of identical twins whom I had seen only a couple of times on the set and who in my opinion were by far the hit of this party. They were dressed identically in these very simple and tasteful, yet amazingly sexy peach-colored evening gowns that hugged their hour glass torsos, low cut with spaghetti straps so there was lots of cleavage and the upper swells of their huge tits showing. The dresses were also translucent if back lit by a strong light, revealing a tantalizing hint. A strange feeling, a lot like an ultrasonic massage must feel like, grips my body, and the heat grows to an intensity that takes my breath away. John’s eyes turn dark with hunger. “You too!” I manage to growl, and true enough, his fingers start to unbutton his shirt while all his attention keeps focused on me. There goes my blouse, a bit awkwardly pulled down my arms, but I shift to help her get it off. In the blink of an eye, my bra follows. “Stand up,” she whispers, helping me to get upright..