Rachel cruised the floor while I strutted like a rooster at her side and as we sampled more and more of the champagne our motions became not only more...fluid, but also the incidental contact became more personal and natural. More than once Rachel had placed her arm around my back taking care to slowly rub her hand across my ass cheeks and more than once she would lift my hand from her waist to the bottom of which ever tit was opposite the side of her I was on.At dinner, with her sitting next to. And a minute later, a cumming mess. She cried out, but her cries were quiet, without breath, nothing more than pants and whimpers as she held onto Art, and came onto his face. She could feel her juices, far more juices than there should have been, drip down onto him, and down her thighs. She could feel her inner muscles clench with all their might, before they convulsed in random spurts of bliss, and more of her liquids trickled out of her. The more they pressed against those deep places in her. More

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