Our eyes met across the tables. Guys came to Frank’s Bar to find other guys and hopefully get laid. He was a lager drinker, a good sign. I was on ic...d cider, the latest craze.He was coloured, probably Caribbean. This part of London had its share, especially on carnival day.When he went to get a refill at the bar, I went too. I'd timed it that way, pacing my drink with his. I stood next to him waiting my turn, listening to the rich inflection in his voice when he spoke to the barmaid, the only. I ran the cucumber the length of my pussy slit, and prodded the opening to my vagina. It only took one run down that slope for the cuke to become well greased, and it slid in unencumbered one might say. I slowly inched the cuke in, wondering when it would stop. I could feel my vagina contracting against its hard cold surface, but the pleasure it was giving was also causing my body to draw it further in. I gasped as I finally hit the limit of my depth and began to work it around like a joystick,. More

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