“Who is it, kid? Your ex?” I sensed that he was interested. “No.” I didn’t dare to look him in the eye. “Then?” He questioned. I turned the monitor back at him showing the CCTV footage of Silmiya crossing the streets. Her tight black Arabic dress revealed the shape of her thighs. Her breasts covered in her hijab and the beautiful face.“Damn.” He said as he watched the screen carefully. “Good eye.” He smiled. “It was crazy for me to ask.” I thought of wrapping it up but Stephen had other ideas. “Woah, you quit?” I look at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” I asked. “You want her or not?” He gave me the assuring looks.It was a Monday morning and the ghost town hadn’t woken up yet. I had picked up Stephen from the city and slowed the bike down by my office. “Ready?” He asked. But I wasn’t. I was shaking uncontrollably and felt the anxiety shooting crackers inside of me. Silmiya would be home with her two-year-old.She would have sent her husband to work and the older kid to school by. She pushed down hard, opening herself and with an almost gulp like movement, pulled more and more of Steve’s hand into her. Soon he had all four fingers inside her, and still she wanted more. With another movement, his arrow-head like hand felt itself gripped around his knuckles, before she just grabbed it and forced in right inside her with an enormous moan. “Fuck, yes, fuck, fuck, oh yes, deep inside…” Steve felt his hand gripped in her soft, slippery tunnel, his fingers reaching and stroking, and with her orgasm rippling through her body, the sensations she imparted to his hand was something he found quite wonderful. He looked over to Jane, who was being eaten out by John. She caught his movement and grinned at him, clearly enjoying having watched his exploration of Helen’s body while being brought off by John’s skilful tongue. When both women had come down from their highs, they swapped back, and both men were sat upon and ridden to their own climaxes. The next morning, Jane.
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