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I imagined his hand squeezing my left breast the way I was doing it right then. I moaned again. The ardor grew stronger as I kept flicking my clit faster and faster. "Shit," I shrieked, knowing how close I was to having my orgasm. I wet my finger several more times so I had better access to my small, hard nub. That's when I started to tingle all over with pleasure. My back started to arch and my legs began to twitch. Out of pure instinct, I closed my eyes and arched my back, spreading my legs out further as I felt my orgasm hit me like a big tidal wave of ecstasy. "Oh, fuck yes," I mumbled in a hazy, high state. I bit my lower lip. After my orgasm subsided, I stopped feeling up my clit. It was hard to stimulate it, anyway, since it was so hard. The pleasure was too much for me to bear and it felt as though I was going to pee. That was definitely something I didn't want to do. I felt sticky and tired. I was still horny, though. That wouldn't change any time soon. A few hours. Denise and Roger had an antique chair and side table next to the window of their bedroom. It afforded a nice view of the Washington Monument across the Potomac River, but was also angled slightly inward. She deposited Roger in that chair then led me over to their bed. This was a critical moment. Denise and I were about to get nasty with Roger watching. I noticed her chest heaving a bit, and a sheen of nervous sweat at the base of her neck. I stepped forward and grabbed her around her waist, pulling her into a groin-grinding embrace. I arched my chest and brought my right nipple into contact with her left, brushing the nubs together. How would Roger react? “Ohhh shit!” Roger exclaimed, staring down at his cock. Like a waking wet dream, he had cum just from the emotional and mental stimuli. I took that as a good sign as he grabbed a tissue to keep the cum off the satin upholstery. I guess you could call what Denise and I were doing “wet humping.” There were still membrane-thin pieces.
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