Peering into the reflection at the other side I watched him watching me as I attempted to wipe away the excitement with my pinky up into my skirt but ...e was relentlessly watching my hand. The train stopped again and more people hustled into the tight little opening and squeezed themselves into some sort of personal space and I was able to swipe the drops of passion off of my bald little muffin without anyone noticing, or so I thought. My boy behind me, it seems, couldn’t keep still. As train. I said goodbye to Patty and thanked her for stepping in at the last minute to be a chaperone. All the time trying to act like we had a normal week at the cabin in the hopes that Peter would not notice that I was walking a little bow-legged because my pussy felt a little raw. I used Peter’s broken leg as an excuse not to have sex with him for a whole week as my poor delightfully abused pussy recovered.Of course, Peter’s leg healed and our annual trip with the boys got back to normal. But during. More

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