I signal to the bartender “Two Thirty-year-old Glenfiddich, neat.”“You have expensive tastes.”“Not really just trying to kill the brain cell... that hold the memories.”“That’s a strange toast.” She says“Well, it’s been an unusual couple of weeks,” I say not wanting to talk about it.She looks at me and can tell that there is something I'm not saying, but thankfully she doesn’t push it. She slides onto the stool next to me at the bar and takes a sip of her whisky and starts coughing.I let out a. I continued my relentless assault on her clit, though, for another minute. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked through her body until finally she fell back away from my face. Cara released her lips and Heather continued to moan on before sliding off of me entirely. At that time, I wondered briefly if any neighbors had heard the screaming. I hoped that they tended to mind their business in that neighborhood.The next thing I knew, Cara was sliding off her shorts and panties. Then she scooted up on. More

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