Why was she coming to my apartment then? Why did she ask that I go first and she would arrive five minutes later? Why did I think this was more than a...out coffee? The questions just rattled on endlessly. It would have made me dizzy if not for a strange, swelling anticipation clearing my head. It suggested I keep those questions to myself, bury them deep and, above all, don't ask Jenn. I entered my apartment; it was clean, fortunately. Christine was over the night before; she hated when my place. Involuntarily I let out a moan. “On the table, on the table,” the rest of the guests started chanting. Susan moved slightly aside to make room for Ben and I. Her hand was now firmly inside her panties and she was rubbing herself expertly. Her panties were dripping wet from her love juices. Ben and I got onto the table, on our knees, as Susan shrugged out of her panties, opened her legs wide and then continued fingering herself. I removed Ben’s underpants and then he pushed my head down between. More

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