When his fingers touched my bare pussy underneath the skirt, I immediately had an orgasm.My legs were trembling, and my pussy was discharging cum in f...ull flow. It was a heavenly feeling. My husband was rubbing my already wet pussy. I was now craving for his dick to be shoved right into my pussy. But he didn’t do that.Instead, he put his hands underneath my t-shirt and ripped apart the t-shirt first and then also my bra. I was now tied up, blindfolded and topless, standing there on public. “Tell me what happened, dear,” Julie finally interjected, sensing the time was right to talk. “Even in England, men are jerks,” Michelle finally blurted out, blowing her nose into an overused tissue. Michelle went on to recount the particularly disastrous date she experienced earlier that evening. She had finally been asked out, since coming to England, by one of the cuter farmer’s sons. When they got to the pub, she figured out it was just one of the local boys showing her off like a. I thought about them; thought about her as I wanked. I fantasised about her: sometimes her display was one of utter innocence, she was the oblivious schoolgirl to my perverted voyeur; more often it was a deliberate display, and she watched me wank until my cock erupted and I spurted cum all over her in a depraved act of worship. Either way, it was really happening and was a massive turn-on; and balancing on the knife-edge only served to make the associated fantasies more exciting and the. "Please... someone will see..." I looked around nervously, but didnothing to move his strong hand away from me. His hand was now coveringthe small patch of red hair above my newel acquired female mound, andone of his fingers quickly found the sensitive nub between my legs. Itfelt incredible! He soon was expertly working me, better than I haddone myself earlier that morning. The wetness spread even more betweenmy legs and I couldn't help but close my eyes."No one can see anything... besides I.