British Indian Squirting

I’m getting turned on. I look around and realize the couple in the next booth is looking our way. The man is sitting with a direct view under the table, and he has evidently cued his wife to look. They are both smiling, but I avoid eye contact, at this point. When the waiter brings our salads and is blocking the view from the other booth, Sherry unbuttons another button on the bottom of the dress. I excuse myself to go to the restroom, mainly so I can get a good view. As I return, I realize now it is possible to get a good view of the crotch of her thong stretched over her pussy, while getting a clear view of her cleavage down below her breasts. I’m having trouble eating, and Sherry is enjoying my reaction. When I tell her that people walking by outside are beginning to notice her bodice, she again laughs. I can tell she is getting very excited. We finish our dinner, have a couple more drinks and then just before the waiter bring the check I’m flabbergasted as Sherry unbuttons. Not for the first time that evening, Megan felt the strong desire to go home. She pushed on only because she had been asked by Casey herself. Casey was two grades ahead of her: a senior, with rich, coppery hair that fell in waves down to the middle of her back. Her eyes, she insisted, were hazel, although they seemed to usually be a soothing shade of sage. In spite of having a body that was more mature than her years, Casey was as nimble as a cat on a picket fence. This ability had earned her the title of head cheerleader. That honorific was what spurred on Megan. In her own right, Megan was a pretty girl. She had pale, sunshine colored hair that just covered her shoulder blades. Her eyes were decidedly green, and set in a smooth, heart shaped face. She was far from being as buxom as her classmate: her five-foot-six-inch frame was as straight and narrow as a flagpole. She was just as much of an athlete, however, and wanted to be on this year’s cheerleading squad. Upon receiving a.
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