Their bodies rubbed against him with each muscle kneaded. Soft breasts brushed his buttocks. Wet, hairless vaginae dripped all over his hamstrings.It'...s just a massage. Feels so good, too. No need to raise a fuss. It's not hurting anybody.By the time they reached his head, fingers digging into his scalp, his body was loose, languid. They dragged themselves all over his back, touching him with every part of their nubile, naked flesh. Whenever a breast, or glute or thigh pressed into his open. It’s GOOD. Unlike my first marriage, where sex was sort of like a little kid getting turned loose in a candy store, with Josh it’s the same candy store, but I know what the GOOD chocolate is, and I can relish gourmet quality until my eyes hurt from being squeezed shut. Yes, I squeeze my eyes shut when I come. Josh noted it in one of our post-coital moments.Josh knows how to follow instructions and I know how to give them and I can use his tongue to its best function, dragging a huge orgasm out. He scannedthe barcode and mumbled the price. I opened my purse, extracted a five-dollar bill, and handed it to him,making sure my fingers touched his as we exchanged the note. His handtrembled. He gulped again. He placed the money in the register's tilland handed me my change, his hand, like his heart, I have no doubt,still all atremble. I flashed him another innocent smile, and, thistime, it was he who blushed.Bagging my purchase, he muttered, "Thank you."My smile broadened. "Thank you," I. I know I'll be embarrassed about itlater, but for now I just need it. I won't find it though, theconference has been going on for a few hours and this is now the seventhtime he's brought me up here then left me. They seem to find ithilarious watching me, panting and with erect nipples squirming on thetable. Knowing what I look like now, I'd imagine some of them arestoring up mental images for when they're alone in their rooms.What I look like now. That's the crux of the matter. I'll tell.