I was biting my lip. This is so hot to look at. Him thinking of a girlfriend that I don't even got, but is actually me that's the screaming bitch. If ...he knew that he was smelling me. I don't think that would end very well. I saw him open his jeans and pull out a very fine-looking cock. Nice dick head mmm, I thought to myself. He grabbed his cock and started playing with it. He took one of the dirty pantyhose rolled it up and encased his big cock with it. Oh my.. that’s what I’m also doing when. Oh, you scheming little bitch.But it wasn't her or the other two women that were the issue. It was the quiet one just standing there listening to the one-way conversation. There could have been thousands in here and she would still be the only one that mattered. She was the bright light in a dark room and all I wanted to do was look at her. Trying not to make it too obvious, I glanced over at her and saw she had a faint smile on her lips and had her head tilted slightly forward inquisitively.. "What the hell happened?" I asked and before Andy could answer I askedagain, this time listening to my voice. It was high, lilting and almostmelodic. I said, "happened" a few times, clearing my throat to try andremedy the problem. I sounded like a girl, a teenager, a child. I didn'tsound like me. "You look weird," Andy whispered tilting his head to the side, like aconfused dog."How weird?" Like a girl."Before I could respond to that disquieting comment a ripple shot throughmy skin, starting at. Sara had found after nearly every concert she'd given that she was physically tired but she almost always found her nipples hard from sexual arousal and her pussy as wet as it had ever been, soaking her panties or thong all the way through. She always wished that her husband was waiting for her there behind the stage to take her to the dressing room and fuck her brains out. Sometimes he was there and every single time he had been, Sara had almost dragged him to the room where she'd prepared for.