“English… you must come and see…,” Anne-Pierre eased out a long moan, “see what she is…. putain… doing to me.”There was faint giggling...and heavy breathing.“Putain…”It was unbearable to hear; clearly the two of them were at it hammer and tongs.“Do… do you know where she has her tongue…,” she gasped, “right now?”I pressed stop and rewound the tape. Slumped onto the sofa, I chided myself for the tight feeling in my trousers.“C'est comme ça,” I muttered.So much for nothing. I felt the wetness between my legs. I played with the sensitive nub hiding there.The man gazed at himself. I stared at him. He caressed his cheeks. I rubbed my finger back and forth. He sighed. I held in a moan. He smacked the sink in front of him. I jumped. He strode from the harsh bathroom. I just stood there, unfinished.A moment passed. I contemplated finishing myself off. But I pulled my hand from my pants. I wiped my fingers off on some toilet paper and threw it into the toilet. I slowly. More

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