“I wouldn’t fit, so there!” I countered back. “Don’t be so smug, Graham,” Cynthia said more sternly than befitted our jesting. “Fact is, I do have a cage which would suit you just nicely. I think you could be persuaded to lock yourself in and hand over the key. It’d certainly keep you out of mischief while us women go about our business.” I saw her hand give Shelly’s thigh a squeeze before it returned to the wheel. “See, you’d better behave,” said Shelly, not realising this woman could actually be full-on serious. “Yes, Ma’am one and Ma’am two,” I shaved said, continuing the joke, but knowing it may not all be in jest. “Lucky for you we’re here,” said Cynthia as she applied the brakes, started to turn, and drove though the reception-hall car-park entrance. I was surprised to see her drive straight up to the main door and stop in the guest drop-off zone. After she pulled on the handbrake she turned to me with a big smile, “That’ll be fifty bucks please,” she said, in her gorgeous exotic lisp. “But I …” I started, and she burst out laughing. “Just joking about the cash,” she said, then wheezed in a low breathy voice, “But there may be a price to pay later.” Then she spun around to again face the front and gave the instruction, “OK, you two, out you get. I hope you enjoy the party.” As Shelly and I were walking towards the grand main entrance, Cynthia drove off, but didn’t go and park with all the other cars. The old, beat-up Land-Rover disappeared down a side alley as if she was going around the back. Our verbal jousting had shown she was as sharp as a tack, so I supposed she knew what she was doing. ……………. The reception hall was more like a modern convention centre and was very majestic and imposing. A uniformed usher indicated the entrance to the main hall, petite which was impressively decorated with all the trappings of a wedding celebration you’d expect from a highly paid accountant. There were 12 large round tables, all with 10 seats around, and a wide dance area off to one side. As soon as we walked through the door, Shelly and I wandered around and found our anal seating russian allocation cards and checked who else would be at our table. blowjob They were all my work colleagues and their partners, so maybe that would be the last we saw of Cynthia. I wasn’t sure whether I was disappointed or relieved. ……….. There were speeches, we dined, table small-talk, more speeches, toasts, deserts, speeches, then drinking, mingling and dancing. I glanced around several times for Cynthia but didn’t see her once. Finally, curiosity got the better of me. Whilst Shelly was off dancing with some other guy and I was chatting to Margot, the bride’s mother, I hinted for an answer. “Oh, our dear Cynth,’ she acknowledged. “She’ll probably be in her apartment upstairs”. Just before her lips met mine she whispered," I think I'm going to enjoy taking showers a lot more from now on." Gaining momentum, I clenched her waist with a forceful grasp, digging into her skin as I pushed further into her, smacking my balls into her cunt. For instance, imagine being there as a new person, pretty nervous and self conscious and not wanting to do it. "He's coming in Tuesday; flying out Saturday mid-day. “Get out of my room!!!” she screams. The lazy floating down flakes turns to a light blizzard. And none of that russian Alto slop, by Frostfire – something decent, like Firebrand or Colovian petite brandy.” “Melody!” he groaned. I watched as Mommy moved her hips, anal fucking Andre back. “No; well not quite.” Zoe replied. neck. “I’ll get my blowjob clothes wet.” Her golden hair was disheveled, her eyes were possessed from the tops of her whites, and her lips were trembling and leaking with drool. We didn’t hear from her again, shaved though.