I could feel a fingertip against a nipple now fully erect with anticipation. Every in-breath intensified the contact and shot a bolt of desire to my engorged wet spot. Our bare thighs touching became a ravaging fire that I didn’t know how to control. Then, she moved her fingers, lightly rubbing my nipple. Lying still otherwise, she spoke: “I’m horny. Can I touch you?” I gasped, cupping her hand tight over my breast. “Yes, please. I was wondering whether you were asleep.” “I was just pretending to be asleep, trying to work out how you’ll react.” She added hesitantly, “I’ve never been with a woman before.” “It’s okay. Just relax,” I replied. I reached back, gripped her buttocks, and pulled her tighter against me, still holding her one hand to my breast. She was breathing heavily, squeezing and rubbing my breast through the thin material. Still under the sheets, I rolled onto my back, pulling my sopping wet panty off in one movement, discarding it to the side. After getting rid of my. Now there was just a few commercial fishing boats and a ramp for the weekend sailors.The town reflected its disuse by all the old derelict buildings, stone chimneys in fields from long demolished houses and the run-down community hall. It was just a pub, a farm supply store and Mr Lee's Superette, where one of his sons followed the customers around the shop lest one slipped a bottle of Worcester Sauce under their woollen jumper. Laurie pulled into the pub carpark and went in the back door."Hey, Laurie!" one of the old regulars called, "been up to the old place? Bring a bit of life into town, eh? All them city folks..." Foot propped on a stool, John Hargood sounded unconvinced. "Ernies goin' to turn the place into one of them cocktail bars," he continued, "gettin' some sheilas to serve in short skirts..." That'll be the day," grumbled Ernie from the bar, "me missus'll want cameras behind the bar to keep an eye on me. If those folks want a beer they have to take the place as they find.
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