When Skip had undressed and masturbated for me, it was a show -- a performance for my benefit. I was the audience -- well, actually, since I was finge...ing myself, I guess I was also a participant. But it happened with mutual consent. This was different. Sneaky, decadent and intoxicatingly voyeuristic. My pussy was tingling with the expectation that something forbidden was about to happen. I could understand how people get addicted to peeking in windows at night. The risk of getting caught. “Done what?”“Ride a washing machine during the spin cycle,” Ellen answered. Molly’s expression didn’t change in light of the explanation. “I guess not.”“You do that?” Molly asked.Ellen shrugged her shoulders and replied, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”“Don’t knock what until you’ve tried it?” Victoria asked while entering the room. She noticed Molly grimace and recognized the signs of a hangover.“A washing machine,” Ellen answered.“My roommate used to wax poetic about the pleasures of. More

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