She says that no way was it aScottish kilt, but more like a girl?s skirt, and that no-one who didn?tknow who you were would have thought, seeing you, ...hat you were a boy."She giggles. I think I?m secretly pleased by this remark, although itsuggests that Tarragon might have an uncomfortably close intuition aboutmy stylistic tastes."Does it matter?" asks Suzi when I put this to her."It might, if she starts gossiping and the word spreads." Mm," says Suzi, "I think the word?s bound to spread. Suddenly, with the thought of my wife’s luscious bare pussy hovering over my face, and Tara’s incredible mouth sucking the life out of my cock, I stood up, closed my eyes, and then I continued to pound my meat, faster, and faster, and faster. As soon as I came close to blowing my load, I slowed my pace. Still stroking my cock, I decided to take all of my clothes off, just like Vicki did in the car, socks and shoes included. I then stepped out of the stall. This men’s room was big, and I was. More

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