And there was that same big meat log that I used to adore so lovingly poking out of Jez's shorts right in front of me.
He asked where I lived or where I was headed.
I used to feel tingly all Sunday afternoon tasting Jez's spunk with every little cum-belch.
I was turned on and could not help what I was feeling.
His tongue in my mouth and his hand on my cock.
I have to bite my lip as I go from hunk to hunk, their fingers pushing rudely inside me as they laugh and I nearly orgasm on their hands, my pussy feeling vulnerable, exposed and excited by all the attention.
Then he pulls his pants on and sits the rest of the way up, leans over and kisses my lips and says, I am so glad I stopped, I said me to, even though I was feeling a bit weird and did not know how or what I felt.
He just moaned and said that was great, just do what you want.