Instead, I bent my wrist just enough that now it was my palm that was against his dick and, if I inched my fingers just enough, I could slip them over...his waistband as well. Over and behind. Now all he had to do was take just a tiny step backwards and I'd be there. Except he didn't. Maybe he couldn't. The crowd was jammed around us,after all. My fingers strained against the so-tight fabric, and I felt one fingernail make contact. I wriggled it a little, felt him stirring in response. But I. He smiled at her as he gestured her with his hands, but the smile never touched his eyes. I think Abigail realized it too. We were both on our guard.At 6 PM Mudar started the evening prayers, beginning with a free-form version of The Prayer of Uncounted Failings. For a while it made sense, but then it became very difficult to follow. Afterwards there was a period of silence. Mudar just sat there turning, slowly shifting his gaze back and forth between Abigail and me. I couldn't help but notice. More

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