I was willing to admit it: I was extraordinarily stupid when it came to girls.Why was I being so hard on myself? I could explain it in four simple wor...ds.I never called Becky.All weekend long, I agonized about what I would say to her, after Saturday. I have never been good at making small talk, that chatty, unimportant chitchat that comes so naturally to some people. I would get tongue-tied, and my brain would freeze up, and the pauses in my already stilted conversations would get long enough to. “Why don’t you get that bottle of moscato we’ve been saving and pour me a glass. I’ll meet you in the den.”She could almost feel Matthew’s gaze burning into her as she walked toward her room. Running her hands over her dress, she made a conscious effort to ensure the shimmering satin was framing her hips. Knowing well his gaze was fixated on her ass, she paused at the hall, turning and flashing him a sexy smile. “Better get that wine,” she advised before disappearing down the hall.When she. Demi was grinding on his face now, causing more of Ace’s cum to spill out of her pussy and into his forced-open mouth. He cringed at the taste - sweat and salt and musk, together with the sweet taste of pussy in a woeful cocktail - but he knew he was meant to serve and please. He tried to ignore the taste and instead poked his tongue out, lapping gratefully at her pussy, listening to her moan. He couldn’t see Ace push his still-hard cock into Demi’s mouth, this time being uncharacteristically. She put the bottle down on the table beside me and spoke for the first time since we had arrived.She cleared her throat and said, "I need to use the toilet. I can't sit down like this."Smitty said, "I'll take her."He led her out of the living room and down the hallway. They had only been gone for a minute when I heard her cry out. A couple of minutes later Smitty came back into the room with a big smile on his face. He said, "I had to piss too. So I helped her rinse all that crap off of her.