Sexy,” I said.“Enough with the ‘Mrs. Z,’ you’ve been inside me,” she said. “My name is Barbara, everyone calls me Barb - which I hate, b... the way - you should call me … Bobbi.”I fucked sweet Bobbi twice more before we thought we’d better head back, her blouse and bra were ruined, so I had to fumble in the back for an old tshirt of mine for her to wear. Her panties were left on the side of the road. After hooking up the station wagon, we drove back toward town, Bobbi sliding over to sit right. Renee's husband Robert guided her towards a secluded back booth. And though well away from the stage itself, still allowing a perfectly unobstructed view of the dancers. Several dancers mingled amongst the members, some sitting with them, others appearing to float from table to table, warm friendly, like Mermaids seductive in their allure.They had ordered their drinks from one of the scantily clad waitress's, though not a dancer. For the dancers though free to mingle, did not serve in that. More

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