She looked back at me with a grin and winked. “Wow,” she said, “does Elizabeth get a turn at that?” “I’m going to need a minute to recover...before that. Maybe you two can enjoy each other while I rest?” Elizabeth grinned and sat up, placing her hands on Bridget’s shoulders. Bridget laid back as Elizabeth laid on top of her, facing Bridget’s dainty little feet. Bridget reached up and grasped Elizabeth’s butt and pulled Elizabeth’s pussy to her face. Hungrily she licked and sucked at her dripping. She wondered how the group in the cart were doing. She rightly guessed that her own position was more enviable than that of the disgraced Tharg and Katya who were no doubt being brutally rabbit-punched back to sleep as often as they started to recover. And, perversely, this annoyed her. She, Francine, wanted to be the most wretched, the most despised. She wanted to be right at the bottom of the heap. She deliberately stumbled and allowed the parasol almost, though not quite, to fail to shade. More

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