The coffee-shop was rather empty except of a company of three, a man on his fourties and two women, one midle-aged on the plump side, the other thirty...something with a pair of big tits. By the language they spoke I understood they were Italians. I had a beer, thinking if it was real what I just lived or am I in a kind of dream, or again I've gone mad and have illusions. If it is a blusted dream, sure thing is I don't want to wake up. I now live in a strange kind of horniness and feel I am ready. A lot. This means that I have to wear a pad (those thin types) at all times - now combine this with fetish for pads and you see how lucky I am. On the other hand this wetness allows me to do a lot of stuff instantly without the need to get wet in advance or use lube.There are some times where wearing a pad is not possible due to various reasons. One example is this particular rave for which I wore fishnet pantyhose, thongs, a miniskirt, and a sports top. The skirt is actually so short that my. We were down to the last hand. Bragging rights and the choice of sex were hanging in the balance. We both giggled at ourselves, naked save one piece of clothing. The final hand was somewhat anticlimactic, as I was dealt two 2's and an 8, 9 and a queen. I held onto the pair of deuces and hoped for the best. Jan didn't take any cards, a bad sign if there ever was one. I turned my cards over first and showed my meager pair with nothing to go with them. Jan just smiled and showed her hand. It was. An hour passed and her knees ached so she retired to sit on the toilet lid and wait. This wasn’t how she’d imagined it, a few people had come in, a couple had even come in the cubicle next to her, she had hopped straight to her knees in anticipation, heart racing, but to no avail, these men did their foul deeds in the toilet next door and left. Disappointment. Maybe there was something she didn’t know, maybe this was an old hole that no one used, maybe it was the wrong day, maybe…the door to.
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