It was amazing that we didn’t cause an accident. Just north of Paris we pulled off the motorway and into a small Office village. Jon found a little old hotel for the night so we put some clothes on and went in. The old woman who ran the reception gave us a filthy look when Jon asked for one room with a big bed for all 3 of us. The room was a fair size, but in the bathroom they have what Jon told me was one of the old style French toilets. There’s nothing to sit on, just 2 places for your feet and a hole in the floor. You have to squat down and do your business. It was the first time that I’d seen one of those and Jon said that he thought that they’d become extinct years ago. Squatting down to have a pee like that reminded me of the time that Jon told me to do that one time when we were out walking. I’d just got into mid flow when 2 men came through the fucked gate to be confronted by me with my skirt round my waist and making a big puddle on the grass. I’m sure that Jon did it on purpose. That night we had our last night on French soil. We walked to a little café and turned a few heads when Debbie and I walked in, one on each of Jon’s arms. I don’t know if it was the way we held onto Jon, or what we were wearing that turned the heads. Debbie was wearing a halter top, that didn’t hide much of her lovely breasts, and a skirt that only just covered her ass. I wore just my crochet dress. The japanese majority of people in the café were old men, but a young couple did come in later on and spent quite a bit of time staring at us. Jon told me to let them have a good look (I was sat facing them) so Debbie moved over a bit and I opened my legs quite wide. When they left the man had quite a bulge in the front of his trousers. I smiled and thought, ‘lucky girl’ when Jon said, “I bet I know what he’ll be after when they get home.” Both Debbie and I got quite happy on the wine and Jon just about had to carry me back to the hotel. It was a good job that it was dark as I’m sure that my dress was round my waist most of the way back; and I can’t imaging what the old man who opened the door at the hotel thought. It wasn’t that quiet a night as well; I can still vaguely remember Jon fucking Debbie and me. Sunday My head hurt. I could only face coffee (in one of those big bowls that the French drink out of) for breakfast. Jon told me to wear a ‘respectable’ dress, which was okay by me; I didn’t much feel like flashing anyone. Instead of secretary going over the Channel we went under Boss it. I looked at her and saw her bright red face. “Don't be a pussy, Samantha,” said Michelle. They are also available in black, fucked silver, and white,” she explains. My prison. At hearing the voice, she turned around and saw a demon girl Boss with red skin, dark red hair, and a cat-like tail. (Damn it is that machine again!) When her quavers at last abated Zach unsaddled her and Barb jumped right up and started dressing. He never minded sharing his wife with me. “So I'm your campaign manager, Mom.” A sight that was impossible to believe. “Come on!” I was half awake when you Office did that. japanese I reached the bottom of the stairs and burst into the living room. He looked back and forth between the trio, who watched secretary him carefully, waiting for him to speak. When he was finished they were red, swollen and slick with his saliva. She yelped, and pushed back hard. So fucked.