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We went on the town, drank and danced. Sofia had really gone to town with her outfit. White crisp, tight blouse unbuttoned to show a little bra and cleavage, short plaid checked skirt which only just covered her pert bum and killer red heels, and bright red lipstick. She looked so damn sexy. Wow!!So we’re in this bar when she went to the ladies. Two young great looking girls came and stood next to where I was sitting and we got talking. One of the girls kept touching my shoulder and back in a flirty way. I had no intentions of chatting them up but I enjoyed the conversation. I didn’t know it but my wife had come out the bathroom and was watching me from the other side of the club. The girls left and my wife returned. She got mad with me and accused me of chatting these girls up and flirting with them! We ended up leaving the club before things got out of hand and words turned into an argument. We were waiting for a taxi when these two guys asked where we were going. They were staying. Wanting... She roughly clips a budded breast between her thumb and index finger, forcing a noise in her throat. Isobelle half- crawls across the coarse carpet, enjoying the burn on her knees, the feel of a breeze on her lush pussy. She' s heavy with juice, ready. Isobelle listens to her breath, how it changes. At last, she hauls herself up on her haunches, circling her ample breasts with the palm of only one hand. The other nestles in her desperate folds, building towards her release. On the train the following morning Ezra is nowhere. Isobelle finds herself searching. He appears as usual on the home-ward ride. His brazen stare laced with ridicule. Did he sense her relief? Standing beside her, the weight of peak-hour bodies closing the distance between them as though intimate friends, Isobelle thrills. Her body vibrates and she struggles for breath. Mistakenly glancing up at him, his chocolate irises are dilated, seductive, fixated. “I haven't been able to stop thinking of you.”.
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