The fly swatter has left a distinctive pattern, and has drawn beads of blood in places. My anus is wide open, bright red and dripping with the lubrica...nt. For another couple of hours, I remain as people slowly leave. I stay naked. I have pleasant discussions with small groups, or individuals, who want to know how I feel about proceedings. "I love this sort of thing - being totally abandoned, vulnerable and wanton. I realise many people would feel humiliated or degraded. But I don't. I feel. ” He looked down at his feet.I couldn’t understand why, why at this time, why out of all of time, he chose this time to get bashful and start to play coy with me and then I realised that he wasn’t looking down at his feet, he was indicating where the lingerie was and oh my god he was wearing it for me. We were drunk the one time that I said I loved men in lingerie and his response had loomed so large in its absence that, suitably admonished, I simply never brought it up again whether drunk,. . you ... err...” The young woman pointed towards Cynthia’s legs.“My yoga pants?”“Mmm, yes ... yoga pants.”Cynthia grinned, “I think they make my butt look good.” She stood and turned her back on Lanying, bending forwards slightly. Cynthia wore no underwear beneath the stretched fabric and she knew it was pulled tightly into her crotch, enough that her vulva was pronounced. “You like?”Lanying giggled, “I like.”It had been a week since the night spent with the voyeur. Cynthia was fixated on. He held he shoulders as his first spurt hit her neck; she stared in awe as stream after stream of white fluid landed on her breasts and said, “My God.” Only after it was over did he realize how vigorously she had rubbed him; she had ridden the wave of his lust without trepidation or hesitation. He looked down to see her watching him with a slight pursing of the lips, ropes of cum on her breasts and neck and in the cups of her bra hanging by the straps at her elbows. He pulled out a.