Business Studies 12


By Katzmarek


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Author's Note.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It may not be used for profit
without the author's express permission in writing.
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(Part 12)


It's very cramped in the little bunkroom. Bolted to the hull around the fold-down beds are bins and cupboards for the trawler's food supplies. They intrude into the available space, leaving an aisle about a foot wide for access to the toilet in the bow.


Below the bed on which Jonno sits naked, expectant, is another food locker upon which webbing is attached for extra stowage. Two leather straps hang down from the bed to permit the sleeper to secure themselves during a storm.


I want to make love to Jonno, but its worse in here than a car parked behind the boat ramps. It's difficult to arrange yourself without something digging into you or bumping you on the head. 


It seems to me the most practical way is to sit on him backwards. My feet placed in the aisle, leaning a little forward to dodge the top locker projecting a foot and a half above my head.


I look suspiciously at a stop valve hanging down from the head in front of me. It's part of the high pressure water system for the fire hoses. If I get too carried away it'll leave an awful bruise on my head. How Jonno can move around down here at sea without maiming himself on something is beyond me.


I turn around and back up, sliding my bottom along his thighs. Jonno gives a sharp intake of breath and strokes my smooth cheeks. His cock nestles in my cleft and I give my arse a wiggle. Sliding along his length my pussy  transfers it's slippery lubrication onto his long fat member.


I tease him for a while. He's breathing faster and faster, groaning, caressing my back, thighs and arse. I reach down to my jeans lying in the aisle and retrieve the little packet of condoms.


"It's only a three-pack," I smile, handing them to him.


"Tha's alrigh'..." he strains out.


He struggles with the packet for a moment before biting it open with his teeth. By the time he has it open, I'm laughing at his desperation.


"Don't bite a hole in it!" I caution.


But in the end he's careful and rolls the thing down over himself. I spread my legs as much as possible and, grabbing the valve for support, lower myself carefully down onto the head of his cock.


"Alright if I hold this?" I ask him.


"Yes... doesn't matter... no pressure... pump's not going..."


"Kay!"


It's certainly stretching me. I work his head carefully inside me, lowering myself in stages, working his length in slowly. Jonno tries to pull me down, anxious to get up me as far as he can.


"Wait! Let me do it!" I tell him.


I move up and down on him, about half to three quarters of the way down. It's about all I can manage comfortably at the moment. With one hand I massage my clitoris, trying to increase the stimulation. This way, this angle, his cock just misses my sweet spot.


It still feels great though, all hard and hot against my velvety walls now slippery with lubrication.


I know Jonno's instinct is to jam that thing as far up me as he can. I can feel it in his straining fingers on my hips, itching to grab me and pull me down.


"You... uh... alright baby?" I ask.


"Yeah... good..."


Breasts bobbing on my chest I start to speed up. I diddle with myself faster and faster.


"Like... ah... fucking me... oh... babe?"


"Yes... oh yes..." he croaks, "oh God!"


I bob faster on him, holding the valve for support and keeping it away from my head. My legs ache, I change to a circular movement around his tool to give myself a little rest. Jonno's arse has slid forward to balance precariously on the edge of the bed. His arms strain trying to pull both our weights up to a safer position.


"Let me up," he says urgently, " the metal bar's killing me."


The bed frame has a metal handrail along the edge, it's digging into the small of his back. I pull up off him and study the problem. Jonno has an idea born out lust and desperation and takes the initiative. Standing, he takes me and lays me down over the bottom locker, over the webbing. I'm just able to pull my feet up onto his shoulders before he's feeding his cock back inside me.


"Easy now... uh... not too hard..." I instruct him.


Bending over me, he has his legs arranged somehow in the aisle. He's supporting his body with his arms. I'm practically bent double, however, and feel vulnerable and exposed. A little tingle of fear courses through my body, I've no way to control the action, I'm totally at his mercy.


"I want you," he murmurs and thrusts his cock in.


I gasp, partly in fear, partly in surprise at the sudden intrusion.


With one hand he grabs my breast and squeezes around the nipple hard enough to hurt a little.


"Ow... not so... Ooh..."


He thrusts in again, firmly, pushing the air out of my lungs. I try to push myself up but can't, I'm well and truly pinned down.


"Not so rough..."


But he's not listening anymore, he's now in charge.


"You're mine..." he whispers.


(How old fashioned!)


And thrusts steadly, pushing himself up further and further.


"No wait... Ooh... uh... yes... uh..."


I can feel his hard pubic bone banging into my clitoris sending sparks of sensation rippling through my body. My hands grab him by the hips, feeling the pulsing of his muscles as he pounds away.


An orgasm jolts me, not a rolling series of spasms but a short sharp explosion of feeling. I wail through clenched teeth, uncaring if the whole dockside is listening in.


Jonno, though, keeps going right through it. My body stiffens and squirms but still he doesn't slacken the pace.


"You like me fucking you?"


"Yes... oh yes..." I gasp, "fuck me..."


"You like my... big... hard... cock?" he emphasises the words with hard thrusts.


"Yes... OH... keep... UH... going..."


I can barely get the words out, I feel so desperate, desperate for his cock, for his body. He growls, his pounding gets faster and faster, his face screws up to a mask of animal lust. He puts his hands on my shoulders to keep me from being driven backwards into the steel wall. My feet slip off his shoulders and flail in the air as he brings himself to conclusion.


"OH..." he hollers and thrusts his tool hard inside and holds it there, as if he's trying to impregnate me.


Again he slams me as he releases another load of potential Italians into the condom. Once more, then a forth time until, with a groan he collapses on top on me.


My body's spent and numb in places. A dull ache manifests itself between my shoulder blades where I've apparently been lying on a metal webbing buckle. I wrap my arms around the sweaty body crushing me. I just want to hold him regardless of my physical discomfort.


My mind is all confusion mixed with that languid feeling.


'What on earth has just happened here?' I ask myself.


I get the feeling that a door has just been opened.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


Afterwards, we dress in silence, smiling to each other in an embarrassed fashion. I don't think Jonno understands what just happened either.


We decide that a shower is necessary and Jonno suggests the Trawlermen's Club down the quay. Apparently they have facilities for the fishermen to use.


"And friends?" I ask.


"If you're with a member."


We smile at the unintentional pun.


After a short walk down the pier, holding hands regardless of the spectators, we come to an old building. From the lobby, doors lead off to a smokey bar, upstairs, there are apparently rooms to rent.


"Why didn't we rent one of those?" I ask him, "it'd be a damn sight more comfortable than the boat."


"Didn't think of it," he replies, "come, the showers are through here."


We go through into the shower area. Each stall has it's own changing room so there's complete privacy. At least there's no fat fishermen walking around with towels around their middles.


The place is deserted. Everyone who wanted a shower has had one and are now propping up the bar across the lobby.


We slip into the end stall and slide the bolt across. Jonno's fetched a couple of towels and a bar of soap from the locker. You apparently drop the linen in a laundry basket on the way out.


"Full service!" I tell him.


"Yes, everything's here. After three weeks at sea you want it all laid on. Afterwards we can get dinner in the bar, if you're interested?"


"What about Mama?"


"I'll call her."


"You'd rather have dinner with me?"


He nods and gives me a kiss. Somehow that seems like the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.


We get undressed, again, Jonno insists on undoing my bra. As he adjusts the water I find the opened packet of condoms in my back pocket and put them within easy reach, just in case.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


When I get home, it's two in the morning and the packet is empty. Actually, we could have done with a refill.


After soaping and stroking each other in the shower, we made love again, from behind this time. Jonno was much more more gentle and we stopped and rested often. We must have spent about three quarters of an hour under that shower before we finally emerged.


Famished, we went into the bar for dinner. The dining area was off in a separate area and under 18's were allowed providing they were accompanied by an adult.


The food was mostly Italian and Greek, reflecting the ethnic backgrounds of most of the fishermen. Decorating the walls were pictures of Greek isles, Italian fishing villages and various memorabilia. At the far end hung the Greek and Italian flags and, curiously the stars and stripes. Jonno said it was a gift from some sister Greek Association in New York.


Near us on the wall were a couple of old photos. One was of a group of Greek soldiers with bandoliers draped haphazardly over their shoulders. The other, an Italian pilot stood proudly by his fighter displaying a row of 'victories' painted below the cockpit. Underneath, probably scratched on the negative, were the words, 'C Campanella... MC 202,' in white.


Seeing me looking at them, Jonno says,


"Mario's father... Mario owns two boats... his father was an air ace... that's his plane. MC 202 is the type of aircraft, Macchi-Castoldi 202 if I remember correctly."


"The Greeks and Italians were on different sides in world war 2, weren't they?"


"Yes... Mussolini invaded but the Greeks gave him a kicking. They had to call in the Germans. Down through the last 2000 odd years," he continues, "we've always been friends and enemies. Like neighbours everywhere we occasionally get sick of the sight of one another."


The meal was wonderful. Lots of gazing into each other's faces, oblivious to the other diners. Lot's of touching and holding of hands. Over icecream and chocolate sauce, Jonno suggested we get a room upstairs for a while and I readily agreed. That's where we finally ran out of condoms.


It was around 1.30am when Jonno called a cab for me. We'd been watching a movie while snuggled up in bed, some silly thing with subtitles. I didn't want to leave, I'd have been quite happy to have woken up in his arms, but I knew mum would have a fit.


I had called her earlier to let her know I wasn't going to be home for dinner and she'd told me not to stay out too late because I had school in the morning. She'd need a good explanation.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


I sleep through the alarm and mum shakes me awake. I mumble that I'm sick and I'm not going to school today. She shakes her head and leaves me alone.


When I look at the time again, it's nearly lunch. The house is empty, both my parents are at work, and I find a note on the kitchen counter.


'Have rung school for you. You'd better have a good excuse when I get home,' signed, 'mum.'


The phone rings soon after, it's mum.


"Where the hell did you get to. You haven't been drinking have you?"


"No," I say, but she ignores me and continues.


"... because I'm not having my daughter being pulled out of some shitty bar and brought home at 2 in the morning by the police..."


"I didn't..."


"You are SO grounded my girl. I've tolerated you seeing Nick Apostolakis and getting up to Christ knows what with him and that crazy Rachael, but this is the end of it. Do you hear me?"


"Mum, I..."


"You're keeping you legs firmly crossed from now on..."


"MUM!"


"...until you're out of my hair. And I mean it! If you blow your exams..."


"I won't!"


"... don't expect any help from your father and I. I won't have you slut yourself around the port..."


"Mum, for Christs sake..."


"...like a common whore, Beatie. You're keeping away from the boats, from Apostolakis, or you can find somewhere else to live, DO YOU HEAR ME?"


"Yes."


There's no use arguing with her when she's like this. The phone clicks finally and I feel devastated. I didn't think she'd blow up like this, I guess it's been building for quite a while.


Angela calls during lunch recess.


"Where are you, they told me you were sick, are you alright?"


"I'm fine..." I tell her what happened.


"Oopsie, I guess you'd better lay low for a while."


"Yeah, I'd better. I was going to anyway until after the exams."


"Yeah, well, take care, I'll ring you later, bye."


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I ring Jonno.


"What're you up to?"


"Busy victualling, you?"


I explain about the phone call from mum.


"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept you so late."


"I wouldn't have gone, Jonno. I wanted to stay with you."


"I need to get back to you. The tinned stuff has just arrived... Beatie?"


"Yes?"


"I love you."


I found myself repeating the words back to him before he hangs up. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. It's good in a way that he'll be gone for three weeks. It'll give me time to think as well as complete my exam preparation.


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ANGELA CONTINUES.


I get off the phone after calling Tee at home. It sounds like she's going very keen on that fisherman guy. I hope it blows over.


It's not that I'd deny her any happiness or anything. No, it's just that it'll change everything. For one, she'll become less interested in hanging out with me. Two, I have plans for us, I don't imagine she'd be interested in setting up a little business with me with her man in tow. And thirdly, I'm not sure she's picked the right one. I've never met him but, from what Tee tells me, he's hardly her intellectual equal.


What will they talk about after the fucking's done? Fish? Really, they don't seem to have much in common besides a taste for sex. Does she really want to be popping out kids every year and cramming a marriage into the little time he spends ashore? I guess that'll take care of the conversation anyway, they'd have no time for anything except a quick fuck and a wave goodbye.


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I don't have to worry about exams, unlike Tee. I'm not going to go to University so I just have an internal assessment.


The year is winding down and school will be finished for good. The seniors, who are sitting exams are starting to drift away on study leave. For those of us left behind we pretty much please ourselves.


Some of the kids are going off to job interviews, others don't even bother showing up. Tee is taking study classes, she's really desperate to get good marks.


It's also party season. Time for old friends to say goodbye to each other as they go their separate ways. I get lots of invitations but I turn most of them down. Most will be no more than drinking contests, beach binges or a big club hop. Some groups have hired out restaurants and although I can afford it, I'd rather keep my money.


I have quite a healthy bank account now, around $4000. Most of it came from Jorge and the rest from jobs I've done. I make sure to save everything I can, I'm not going to live in poverty and struggle like my mother.


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I had an interesting offer from Jorge the other day. On Friday night he suggested we go on a double date.


I've no idea what he means by that, except a business buddy of his wants to check out a club with us. He's apparently bringing along a Chinese girl called Ming, Maung or Mung, something like that.


Why is it always Friday? I guess it's because he has a standing excuse with his wife that covers him only for that day. I've no idea what it is, I suppose she thinks he's going out with the boys or something.


I couldn't be married to someone like Jorge, all that deceit and bullshit! If I was ever to marry and my husband started having affairs and stuff, well he'd be history, I can tell you.


There was this woman who drove our school bus, like for years. She was Dutch, I think and her husband was Irish. Anyway I used to sit up the front and we'd have these really deep conversations. She told me one day that she knew her husband was having affairs, they'd discussed it! She said that she didn't mind because she knew he'd always come back to her. That is SO weird!


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Ok, it's Friday and I meet the other couple. Jorge picks me up in his car by the park as usual and the others are already sitting in the back.


I shake hands with them, his name is Mateo, hers is Mok. I immediately start talking to the girl and Jorge suggests I swap places with Mateo.


Jorge and he start talking in Portugese and I can't understand a word so I ask Mok about herself.


She's from Vienam, born in a little village by a big river called the Mekong. Her English is heavily accented but I understand her quite well.


Mok wears more make-up than I would. Around her eyes she has purple eyeliner, it looks really cool on her. In fact her face looks like it's been done by a real professional.


She's wearing a low cut cocktail dress, white with a slit up the side. She hasn't got that much up top and she's really slender and quite short. I'd have guessed she was about 14 but she tells me she's 26! I'm lousy at guessing people's ages.


"Did you get here by boat?" I ask.


"Boeing," she replies, smiling embarrassingly.


Well, hell, I don't know. I thought they were ALL boatpeople.


"What do you do?"


"Hostess," she tells me.


Ok, I get it now, probably one of Jorge's employees. I figure Jorge's pal is visiting from Brazil and asked him to provide a little entertainment.


"Do you work for Jorge?" I ask her.


"No, Mrs Sally... at Afterhours Club."


Ok, that's Jorge's place alright, she probably things he's just another customer.


"You hostess too?" she asks.


"Part time," I tell her.


"Ahh... You very pretty... you get many customers?"


"Just the one, " I tell her, "but I'm thinking of expanding."


She giggles at that.


"I think you meet many men, many RICH men. They like western girl... your hair..." she says pointing, "it's real?"


I nod.


"No bottle," I explain.


"No bottle?" she repeats, "that's nice... very nice."


Around her neck is a pendant with a gold cross. It surprises me a bit, what would a good Christian girl be doing in this game?


"Are you Catholic?" I ask.


She immediately touches the pendant and nods.


"And you're ok with this?" I ask her.


She looks puzzled.


"With what?"


"With going to church and then going with men."


She still looks confused and shrugs her shoulders. I guess that's all the answer I'm going to get.


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We go to this flashy nightclub, it's all polished steel and mirrors, real retro. All the patrons seemed to be older although some of the women look pretty young. The music is seventies disco, they even have a bloody mirror ball, 'cack!'


All these old guys bopping around to the Bee Gees is almost as much as I can stand. Jorge wants to get up and dance but there's no way I'm joining that lot. Fortunately he understands and sits with me at the table with my vodka, lime and lemonade.


Mok's not shy and she and Mateo get up and jig around to 'night fever.' She moves very well, sort of slinky and real sensual. She kind of teases Mateo with pouts and jiggles and the guy is practically drooling. She sure knows her stuff.


We can't talk much, the music is ear-splitting. Those old farts must be practically deaf by now anyway so I guess they don't care.


It is SO gross in here, the only reason I don't turn and run is Mok. She just looks so beautiful and sexy sliding around to the cornball music. When they come back to the table for a rest, she's all glowing from perspiration. Her hair is a little mussed up and she's breathing heavily from the dancing and excitement.


"You dance?" she asks.


"NO!" I say emphatically, "not for all the sheep in Australia."


"It's fun!"


"Like cutting yourself shaving your legs!"


She laughs and pulls me up by the arm.


"Come, you and me... let's go!"


I'm protesting all the way as she drags me up towards the dance floor. The bass rattles my teeth, the screech of Donna Summer 'feeling love' hurts my eardrums. I try and shut it all out and just focus on the snaking girl in front of me.


She claps and shakes and urges me on with coquettish expressions and 'come on' eyes. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I try and match her movements. Mok turns around and steps back, pushing her cute little arse into me, grabs my hands and pulls them around her waist. The next thing we are doing this little grinding act and laughing away. I can't see Jorge or Mateo past the glare but I bet their eyes are popping and they're shifting uncomfortably in their seats.


When we return, we sit next to our respective dates. Jorge gives me a big smooch and smiles at me with delight. Mateo gives Mok a civil kiss on the cheek and says,


"Delightful my dear, thank you,"


... in his South American accent.


They must think we're only putting on a show for their benefit.


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Afterwards we all go back to Mateo's hotel. It's one of those modern and expensive one's on the beachfront. He has a suite on the top floor with beautiful views of the harbour and city. Mateo orders some champagne and we sit out on the balcony until the Brazilians start complaining about the cold breeze. I guess if you were born near the equator it would seem pretty cold here.


Inside are a couple of sofas in an L shape with a long, low table in the middle. Jorge and I snuggle together on one, Mateo and Mok on the other.


"Are you having a good time?" Jorge asks me.


"Yes, thank you."


"Good," he says then kisses me.


We're soon in a clinch and playing tongues. Jorge's hand finds my tit and squeezes me through my little top. As he nuzzles my neck, I look across at Mateo and Mok. He has his hand up the slit in her dress and is slowly Frenching her. Her hand rests on his upper thigh, almost rubbing his dick.


Mok shifts onto his lap and he resumes feeling her up. She sort of lap dances on his dick with her cute buns.


My attention is dragged back as Jorge starts to lift my top. I pull it over my head and he caresses my breasts over my bra. Mok is giggling as Mateo pulls up her dress and paws her lace knickers.


I feel a little self-conscious when Jorge pulls off my bra. I know his friend is watching my boobs bob into view, I can sense his eyes on me as he strokes Mok's little arse.


Mateo pushes Mok to her feet saying,


"Strip, strip..."


Jorge does the same with me and joins in the chorus. Mok looks around at me laughing and begins this slinky dance. She winks at me before slowly sliding the straps of her dress down her arms. She backs into me and we bump arses, we face each other as Mok wriggles her tush at Mateo.


I start to undo my tight pants, carried along by the moment. Mok's cocktail  dress pools on the floor and she steps out of it, dancing around. As I lower my pants to the floor I wriggle my butt at Jorge, copying Mok's routine.


Wearing nothing but panties and a smile, Mok places her hands on my shoulders and appraises me.


"Nice body," she tells me.


I look at her's also. She has tiny little tits with large erect nipples that stand out like wheel nuts. They jiggle a little as she moves and they look real cute. Her tummy is flat and her small arse is entirely in proportion to the rest of her. By the way her G-string-type panties cut sharply up, she's obviously trimmed or shaved, not a whisp of pubic hair.


Her skin, though, is so smooth and brown. Not at all like my pale pink variety. I think she's a real classic Asian beauty.


We back up towards our respective men and jiggle our butts in their faces some more. Mateo grabs Mok's panties and slides them down with lots of groping, feeling amd kisses on her butt. She has a little string of black hair trailing up from her slit.


Jorge jerks down my knickers in one swift movement and I fall backwards into his lap. A hand immediately cups me between the legs, a thumb presses down onto my clit. I stretch back giving Jorge access to my breasts and he obliges by kissing and sucking them.


Mateo has got Mok lying down along the sofa. He's kneeling on the floor lavishing attention on her little body with hands and tongue. She winks again at me, which I catch over the top of Jorge's head. 


My man meanwhile, is massaging my pussy with his palm and fingers setting me grinding against his hand. I'm SO ready to fuck!


"Let's go to the bedroom," Mateo announces, pulling Mok up by the hand.


"Come," says Jorge, pushing me up.


"Us too?" I ask him.


"Why not?" he says and I shrug.


This should be interesting!


------------------------------------------------------------------------


We follow Mateo and Mok through to the next room. The bed is large, a king size I think, and a bedside lamp provides the only illumination. Mateo guides Mok to the bed and she stretches out on her back, legs spread a little. She watches casually as Mateo undresses.


I can hear Jorge undoing his clothes behind me. I'm uncertain what to do, whether I'm supposed to lie beside Mok or what.


Jorge nudges me forward towards the bed. Mok takes my hand and shifts over to give me room. As I lie beside her she puts my arm around her neck and smiles. She winks and says,


"You very nice boobies... can I touch?"


"Sure," I answer, not knowing where this is going.


So is all this just a girl/girl setup for the guy's entertainment? Maybe they get dessert after we've made out. I'm not comfortable about this at all.


How much did Jorge say he'd pay me for this? He only told me there'd be a little extra in it.


Jorge's down to his underpants.


"How much are you paying me Jorg'?" I ask him.


"This is not the time to discuss..."


"Yes it is... how much?"


He shrugs,


"Maybe 500?" he says.


"Maybe 6," I tell him.


"Ok, 600 then. You rob me, you bitch," he says, but he's smiling.


I know there's plenty more where that came from.


"Hey!" Mok protests.


"And her?" I ask Jorge.


"She's paid by the hour," Jorge explains.


"It's only fair that you pay her the same," I tell him.


"But I can't do that," he complains," the other girls..."


"What others, how many girls have you got tucked away?"


The Brazilians have a brief conversation in Portugese.


"Ok," says Jorge, eventually, "he'll pay..."


"In advance."


"Really, you don't trust me?"


"Business," I tell him.


He shrugs and retrieves his wallet from his jacket. Actually I've found these guys like flashing their money, I knew he'd have a big roll on him.


He and Mateo peel off $600 each from their rolls in nice crisp 100's and pass them to us. Mok is delighted and stares bog-eyed at me and the money.


"You very good," she whispers.


"You've got to know when to negotiate," I explain.


Mateo liked what he was getting and didn't want to miss out.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Mok hugs me, giggling playfully. I can feel the twin pricks of her stiff nipples as she presses herself against my chest.


The bed bounces as Jorge gets on behind me. He immediately starts stroking my arse, pushing his fingers between my legs. Mok watches Mateo walk around to her side and as he stands next to her, she holds his prick in her hand and slowly wanks it.


Jorge nudges me onto my back and kisses me hard on the mouth. His hand goes back to my pussy and continues to massage me. I reach for his cock and finger the bulb in the way he likes.


There's a shifting in the bed and looking across I see Mok sitting up sucking Mateo's cock. He has his hand around her head, guiding the pace.


Jorge wants some of that too and turns onto his back. I get between his legs and begin to lick his cock and balls. Next to me, Mateo gets on the bed also and Mok does the same to him. We both work on our men subconsciously keeping pace with each other until Mok taps me on the shoulder. I look up,


"Swap?" she says and I grin devilishly.


Mateo is not bad looking and about ten years younger then Jorge. Anyway, he seems way more fitter then the older guy.


Mok shuffles across behind me, unnecessarily feeling my tit in the process. I think she genuinely likes girls, that one. I'd better watch her, I think to myself.


She seizes Jorge's dick with her mouth and furiously sucks him. Jorge starts from the bed in surprise then flops back, enjoying the treatment.


I hold Mateo's cock in my hand and study it briefly. It's seems a little bigger than Jorge's, it's still slippery from Mok's ministrations. As I bend to suck him I feel a hand on my arse, fingering my crack. It can only be Mok, unless Jorge's arm has grown by a foot.


I glance sideways at her but all her attention is focussed on the business at hand. An intruding finger finds my hole and begins to work around my entrance. It tingles nicely, I SO want a dick in there.


"Here!" croaks Jorge.


He wants Mok to turn around into a 69. I look up at Mateo who rolls his eyes in their direction, I guess he wants the same.


Because Mok's short, she can't squat on Jorge's face and reach his dick easily. Instead she kneels and rocks back and forth onto his poking tongue while continuing her cocksucking.


I can manage quite nicely and soon Mateo's lashing at my clit. I'm really drooling when I feel a hand on my face. Looking up I see Mok shifting forward while fingering herself. In her other hand is a condom, I guess she's ready too!


Katzmarek (C)