Back in his bedroom, fresh from the shower, Harry picked up the discarded magazine and leafed through a few sticky pages before dropping it in the bin... He felt the twinge of guilt that usually followed masturbation, the sense that jacking off, however sensuously he did it, was second best, a reminder of failure. A vision of Marina came into his mind unbidden. Marina the ballerina. She wasn’t a prima ballerina. In the theatre programme the hierarchy was clear. There were Principals, First. Lyn saw them, then looked away. When she heard Betty moaning, she turned to watch them fuck. It was quite obvious that the two of them were building for an orgasm. Betty reached hers first. She was writhing on the pool table.“Fuck me, Jake. Oh, fuck me hard! I'm begging you, fill my pussy with your cum.”I looked at Lyn. Her face was expressionless, she wasn't letting on what she was feeling. When Jake reached his climax, he jammed his cock tight into Betty's pussy and held on. I could see his. More

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