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’I glanced down, made complimentary noises, and then moved past him to the last of the three. He was a handsome fellow with a languid air and wet blond hair that fell forwards over his forehead. He smiled though his moustache and beard, revealing gleaming white teeth.‘Lieutenant Gerald Fitz-Lloyd, Miss Felix.’I nodded to him and turned back to Georgina.‘All present and correct and standing to attention, Mrs Beaufort.’She looked at the captain. ‘And you, sir?’‘James Augustus Finch-Berkeley, Mrs Beaufort. The Lord Wight. Although my friends call me Gus.’‘Well, Gus, The Lord Wight, Miss Felix and I are happy to consider whatever entertainment the cavalry has in mind for this evening, but I must tell you that we are much more attracted to generous men. You take my meaning, I’m sure.’ She raised her eyebrows at him.He smiled at this and nodded his head. ‘My dear Mrs Beaufort, I quite understand. You can be assured on the point. The Blues and Royals endeavour to meet their obligations in. "I really do have to pee." She unzipped her jeans and kicked off her shoes, easy-to-dispose-of-loafers. She stepped out of her pants and took Stacy's hand. Stacy followed the older woman into the stall, breathing heavily. Claire lowered her panties and sat on the toilet. The firmness of the toilet seat wasn't uncomfortable. The passion was like anesthetic and the immediate surroundings were perfectly fine. The ambiance wasn't the issue. She wanted privacy to kiss and fuck. Stacy straddled the older woman's legs, placed her hand on the wall above the toilet handle, and leaned so her forehead touched Claire's. Claire placed an arm on Stacy's back and kissed her again, grinding her lips against Stacy. They kissed and Claire peed. The act of doing both things simultaneously with someone who didn't mind carried a taboo element fueled Claire's lust. She groaned and rubbed a hand on Stacy's bra. Stacy responded, not seeming to mind the foreplay during the use of the toilet. She unbuttoned.
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Please. Please. Footsteps approached behind him but he daren’t turn around. It felt like he was waiting forever, but eventually the footsteps ended two urinals down from Mason. He still didn’t turn. He didn’t want to be let down, but out of the corner of his eye he could swear it was him. The off-white vest and the baggy shorts. He was almost certain.“Shy?” Mason heard him say, and that was all he needed to hear. He turned his head and initially was startled – it was the man. Only, he looked a little different. For one thing, the man had what looked to be clown make-up on. Not fully, but a faded white covering most of his face, like it was almost washed off. He had streaks of red paint, one on each cheek. It looked like each line ran from just above his eyebrow down to the corner of his lips. But after that initial surprise, Mason was so overcome by excitement he wrote this off. He must work at the circus, Mason thought. Maybe he’s a traveller, that explains the dirty vest. Hell, the.

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