By our second cocktail, our conversation floated toward the sensual side. At first a joke about spanking, then a comment about tasting which slid into...a subtle touch, some glances. A finger on each others knees, thighs, shoulders and faces. It was enough. We kissed in public, before I rose for the restroom. I returned, but rather than to my bar seat, I pressed up behind her, letting my cock just touch the cleft between her cheeks, pressing my hardness into her ass. I could feel her curve her. . twenty three." Her voice had started out hot, wanting to deny it, but it ended softly, quietly, knowing arguments brought pain, and they were watching."Jesus!" His voice held contempt, but also something else. Not admiration, certainly not that, but desire, yes, and maybe a hint of pleasure. The girl just kept washing the pots. "You are a bloody slag! They said you'd either come back bloody confident and macho, or maybe just a bit of a hottie, but I never believed it. A boy of mine, I. More

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