"For what? Polishing each other's towel racks?" she said, her eyes darting back and forth between our poorly concealed hard-ons. Momentarily stunned b... the joke, Scott and I looked at each other from head to toe before bursting out laughing again. I couldn't resist slapping playfully at Scott's cock through his towel. Paula stood up from the couch and took us both by the hand, steering us to the patio door. She paused for a moment, letting go of my hand to grab a towel, before sliding the door. She had set her wine glass down and was leaning back on the couch, arms behind her head. Was she doing this on purpose, trying to get me to look at her tits? I tried to retain eye contact, or look somewhere else, but I noticed them alright. Hell, I found myself actually considering doing her. Was I really attracted? I mean, she was willing, assuming she wasn't playing me, and those tits.... But was I thinking of a sympathy fuck, giving her some dick because I didn't think she could get any. More

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