"Let's forget aboutall this boring crap and get shit-faced. The second half's juststarting."I laughed, knocking back a swig of beer. "You are just my ...kind of girl!"6By the end of the match, John and the rest of his mates were really offtheir faces. Sangeeta and I were more than merry. The other blokesstarted singing a bunch of toneless anthems with a remarkable disregardfor the correct lyrics. Sangeeta managed to pull me back over to thedarker side of the pub, back to the booth we'd sat in the. Outside in the corridor, Jennifer turned too quickly to shut the door. Losing her balance, she slid down the wall. As it dawned on her drunken mind that she never could get up again, the tears started trickling down her cheeks.In this state of despair, George Ironmonger found her. He, the owner of the hotel, passed her on going to his private annex. He bent down over her to ask if she were alright and if he could help her to her feet. But then, smelling the alcohol on her breath, George. Suppose I flashed them my pussy?"I was so filled with desire that she already had me leaking precum, and the thought of someone actually seeing her sweet pussy made me groan.She giggled and said, "I thought so." Then in a low, sultry voice, she asked, "So what if I let him put his hand on my thigh? Would you be mad then?"She was laying next to me and whispered it into my ear as she toyed with my dick and dragged the fingertips of her other hand across my chest. Between her manipulations and the. “I think I’ve pulled my hamstring!” I answered, as Simon put his arm around me, placing his firm hand on my leg. Tantalisingly close to my cock. “Where does it hurt?” He asked, moving his hand to the back of my leg. “Here?” “Yeah, right there.” I nodded my head as his hands softly rubbed the back of my thigh. “It does feel tight. Do you think you could walk on it if I helped you?” He asked. I nodded in response. “We’ll get you on the massage table in the conservatory; I should be able to.