He hated walking through thick fog and he had a feeling this was going to be heavy.He ran up the stairs to the booth and gathered up his books, placin... them quickly in the leather satchel. It was called a soft briefcase, but he thought it looked like a purse – he hated it but being a gift from his mother he always carried it. Moving from the booth he caught his reflection in the office doors glass windows. Shit – I look like some fag carrying a purse. He had to figure out a way to lose the damn. We even pulled them down a little to give her better access to our dicks. I wanted better access to her pussy, so I asked her to sit up and pull her pants down too. She pushed them down to her knees. She could now easily spread her legs. I knew I could bring her off and give her an orgasm right there in the booth of this bar. No one was paying attention. People were drinking, dancing, playing pool and no one had a clue of the action going on in the booth in the corner. Here I was with my. More

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