Gay male prisoners

We had a quick shower and drove to the office for work without saying much. I gay male prisoners dropped her off a block from the office, at her request - no need to give the office gossips anything to wag about by arriving together - then I drove around the block twice, parked, and went in to work. Cynthia works on the floor below me, so we didn see each other all day, although she was all I could think about. At quitting time, when I reached the back door to the parking lot, she was standing there with her coat open. "Its kinda chilly out there," she said with a sly smile. "If its no trouble, could you give a lift home again?" There was a warm glow deep in my stomach as we crossed the parking lot gay male prisoners to my car. When we got to the intersection, I started to turn left toward Cynthias neighbourhood, but she put a hand on my arm and pointed straight ahead. "Im going this way tonight," she said. "Im having dinner at a friends house. Do you mind?" The warm glow in my stomach turned into a lump of lead. "Uh, sure," I said. "No problem." Cynthia looked at my. The disappointment must have been pretty obvious on my face. "Would you like to come along?" she asked, snaking her hand into my open coat, rubbing my stomach and pinching the bit of flab on my side. "I can just barge in like that . . ." "Oh, you won be just barging in," she said, smiling. "Pam knows you e coming. I sent her an e-mail from the office and told her I might have a date gay male prisoners." Navigating us to a subdivision, Cynthia told me about Pam. They were friends from high school, and Pam had just finished going through a messy divorce but she had managed to keep the house. She worked as a legal secretary and had some pictures from her last vacation she wanted to show off, hence the dinner invitation. We turned in to the driveway in front of a split-level with grey siding. We climbed a porch on one side of the house and Cynthia rang the gay male prisoners doorbell. A few moments later gay male prisoners the door gay male prisoners opened and a woman reached out and pulled Cynthia into a hug. She was a bit taller than Cynthia, with her red hair cut boyishly short. The two women exchanged a kiss - their lips lingering, I wondered? - then she turned toward me.

"Hi James gay male prisoners," she said, one hand snaking across my stomach into my open coat, leaning over to give me a kiss on the neck. "Im Pam. Come in, you two gay male prisoners." Pam took our coats and led us into the living room. Cynthia sat on the couch and I settled into an easy chair while Pam disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with a bottle of wine and three glasses. "Well eat in a bit," she said. "Cynthia, I got my pictures done from my trip to Greece. Let me get the album." We drank wine while the women, sitting together on the couch, flipped through the pictures. I leaned forward and Pam held the album gay male prisoners out so I could see. Most of the pictures were scenery, architecture, the ruins of the Parthenon. Then Pam flipped a page, and there was a picture of her on a beach, lying on a towel wearing only gay male prisoners her bikini bottoms. My cock stirred in my jeans. Sitting on the couch, Pam was wearing a loose white blouse and a tight black skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. The blouse didn tell you much about what was underneath; in the picture, her tits was tiny, almost flat, but with long, thick nipples, her freckled skin shining with sun-tanning oil. "You like the scenery, James?" Pam giggled. I looked up and flushed dark red. On the couch, Cynthia had pulled the tail of Pams shirt from her skirt and was rubbing her back inside the cloth, her head on Pams shoulder. Pam turned her head toward hers, her lips grazing Cynthias cheek. "The beaches there are something else, Cyn," she said. "You really do have to go sometime." Cynthia got up and said she had to go to the bathroom. Walking past my chair, she ruffled my hair then disappeared down the hallway. On the couch, Pam smiled at gay male prisoners me with her lips puckered together. She got up and walked over and stood over me, looking down with her hands on her hips. "From what I hear, those beaches aren the only thing that are something else," she said, kneeling in front of my chair and running a hand up and down my thigh. "Cynthia tells me theres something I really have to check out gay male prisoners sometime." Pams hand slid up my thigh and cupped my crotch. Still looking up at me smiling, she undid my belt and zipper and dug her hand into my pants, her fingers gay male prisoners, warm, wrapping around my cock and squeezing. I almost spilled my wine glass gay male prisoners; still smiling up at me, Pam reached out, took it from my hand and set it on the end table next to my chair. Then with both hands, she pulled my pants open and dug my erect semi-cock gay male prisoners from gay male prisoners my boxers.