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Now I was imagining what she looked like out of them. Lying back on her bed in her bedroom, with her legs spread, pussy damp, inviting... begging... My phone buzzed. I ignored it. It buzzed again. Shit! I picked it up, thinking maybe it was my wife checking up on me and wanting to tell me about her day. So much for my time to myself. If I ignored it now, I'd only get the inquisition later: "Where were you? How come you're not answering my texts? What were you doing that was so important?" And so on. But it wasn't my wife. The text was from Kriti. "Hey, Justin. I need your help. Can you come to my room?" My mind immediately jumped back to my fantasies of Kriti naked and spread-eagled on her bed. I felt my cock twitch, and had to remind myself that this was the real world, and whatever Kriti wanted, it probably wasn't to get fucked by her thirty-seven year old study partner. She probably just needed help connecting her computer to the hotel network or something. "Sure," I texted back.. The equipment that Mr. Dodds wheeled over to Mandy's motionless side appeared to be a common paint sprayer, and was, except for minor modifications to the spray-gun. It was a contractor type, with one hose to the air compressor, and one that dipped into the paint bucket. In this case, however, the label on the five gallon bucket read: ACME 1 Part Latex Molding Compound --> ask for it by name
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