She stepped one foot on the table, reached her hand between her legs and began to finger her pussy, never breaking eye contact with me. I kept my dick...in my pants. I figured she was trying to see if I did truly measure up to her plastic stud. My hand slipped beneath the waistband and I kneaded my meat sensuously. Andrea's gaze was fixed on me, and Kim didn't like it. She began to work furiously, but to no avail. Just as my erection was about to breach the waistband, I pulled my hand out. I was. "Cow eyes?" "What's so funny?" His laugh was incongruous; I felt frustrated and irritated. "Here I am, pushing sixty, overweight and blind . . . and you've got the hots for me?" He continued laughing heartily. "Maybe I'd better leave," I suggested coolly. "God, don't leave! It's just getting good!" He reached for the bottle of Scotch, groping for my glass, pouring another splash. "Don't get pissed, okay? Hell, let me catch my breath, will you?" He poured the food into a casserole dish and. More

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