My hand hit the bare, warm flesh above the stocking, and I looked around the carriage. No one was paying attention. So I moved more boldy. My hand shi...ted up and across a little. I could feel the waist band of a tiny pair of panties; a lacey thong, as it turned out. My fingers, in the crook of her leg, edged under the side of her panties, feeling the smooth shaved skin beneath.Her hand squeezed the head of my penis through the trousers, and she smiled, leaning closer. Her breath in my face.. The maître d' led us to a private table near the back arranged by Camille. Mr. Iverson pulled the chair out for me as I approached the table. He placed his hand on my shoulder as he pushed my chair in, before sitting across the small table.“May our bartender start you with a cocktail?” the maître d' asked.“Thank you,” I said. “A Long Island?”“Very good. And you, sir?”“Old Fashioned, please,” Mr. Iverson answered.“Right away,” the maître d' promised.I looked across the table and noticed again. More

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