We got there a little after 8. The room was smoky and dark. It had a bar, dance floor and dining tables. There was Mariachi music playing. Joan had he... new dress on and nothing else but shoes. We sat at the bar to wait for our table. We were served corn chips and salsa while we waited. The salsa was very hot and made us sweat. Joan would wipe the sweat from her chest, pulling the scoop neck further down. Sitting on a barstool let Joan discretely flash her bare mound at will. When the bartender. I really can’t say what it was or why, but somewhere in our natures the two were separated. I could give Tom a blow job, let him eat me out or finger me, and feel no guilt. But the idea of taking that wonderful cock inside me had a definite block, as it seemed to for Tom also. I think we were both resigned to going no further until something changed to assure us that our relationship was one we wished to become permanent. However we weren’t slowed in the activities we did find acceptable. That. More

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