I cup my handsover the mirror anyway, in case it's a two way mirror and......and I'm not sure what. It's only when I cup my hands that I realize Ican ...ook down.I don't. I stare at the mirror, and at my hands. It turns out "the backof my hand" isn't just an expression. I know what my hands look like andthese are not them. I can see their reflection in the mirror, see themirror hands almost touching mine.It's not just because I'm a Gen-B. My hands would be different anyway, Iknow that.But these. "Well, just another thirty five minutes to go... "We sat there just sort of staring at each other's crotches, then all of a sudden we both just look at each other knowing we had the same idea."She didn't say we couldn't masturbate, right?" Nope. She also never said anything about this either," I said as I formed a two way."Fuck me!" she groaned as she felt my hand starting to pound my cock."Oh yeah... You are wetter than a hooker with a fire hose up her ass," I said energetically from the. More

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