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“Hey Deb. They’re a good bunch. I can tell they like you. You’ll be more than welcome to join them.”“Sure, they asked. It’s just that, well, I like to play pool and smoke cigars and hate to gossip and well, hell, I came here to be with you.”Shit, all afternoon I had been trying to be the gentlemen. You know, flirt and all but not grabby, mostly because of the presence of the wives and girlfriends but also because, well, I really liked her, wanted this to be more than a one ball game date. Deb must have sensed my hesitation because she because she actually batted her eyelashes at me and took my hands in hers and gently pulled me against her. I could feel the heat of her body through that sheer silk dress. My cock just soared and I grasped her around the waist, pulled her tight and kissed her hard.She returned it, grinding her pussy against my hard cock, tonguing me and ruffling my short blonde hair. Fuck, I was horny. My hands slipped lower, grabbed her tight ass and squeezed hard.. “Now why would I fuck an oldie like her when I’ve got them queuing round the block?” She grinned and put her hand on my knee, shamelessly snaking it up towards my groin. “You’ll have to wait, Tracy, I promise I’ll get round to you one day.” She took her hand from my knee and punched my arm, drawing the attention of Mrs Harrison.“Is there a problem?”“No, Miss,” Tracy piped up, “we were just wondering what the French word for slut was.” This gained a few sniggers from the class, even though I’m sure no one had a clue what the joke was. The alarm on Mrs Harrison’s face was chilling, as first she stared at Tracy then at me. The disappointment of her face was clear as she tried to work out what sort of conversation would lead up to Tracy asking this.“Salope, Tracy. Why ...” Just as she was going to return a question, her words were lost as the bell sounded, signalling the end of the class. During the commotion to leave the room, excited chatter and chairs scraping on the hardwood floor,.
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