Charlie looked from one woman to the next. Each one stopped what she was doing and looked around, and then began squirming. It looked like ants had gotten into their clothing. Charlie giggled and climbed over the center console so that he could sit in the passenger seat, his crooked arm resting on the door.The women were looking at each other, a panicked expression on their faces. Some rocked back and forth; others opened and closed their legs; some did both. A young mother in her mid-twenties wearing a yellow dress gave in to her needs first. Her hand disappeared beneath her dress and her arm moved vigorously.Another woman sitting on the other end of the same bench as that woman saw what she was doing. But instead of bolting, she opened her shorts, lifted her butt, and pushed them to mid-thigh. Her hand slipped inside her green panties and her eyes closed as she too masturbated.One by one, the women pushed their pants down and began frigging. One lady was sitting on the grass leaning. She had been drunk andwilling, her body taut and eager. She had offered herself to me on herknees with her face pressed against the carpet of our mutual friend'sguest bedroom carpet. Her hands were behind her and she held her cheeksapart, pushing first one, then two fingers up her asshole."Fuck my cunt baby!" She panted, "Fuck my bitchy little cunt."And what a cunt it was. Slick and shaven, it was hot and pink, and Icould smell her musky odor. Everyone knew Bella was a whore, and Idesired her even more because of it.That night I moved to her, but in my fantasy as I now imagined it, itwas no longer me that was entering her, it was Anderson. Anderson wasstrong and masculine; he was much larger than me in every imaginableway. I recalled his huge cock photographically and in my mind he wasme, and I? Well I was Bella of course. It was now me on my hands andknees, whining like a bitch."Fuck me, fuck me Mr. Anderson."After that, there was no distinction in my minds eye between me andBella.
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