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” She giggled, and slipped on a sleeveless top. It was loose enough to hide the clamps and the little batteries hanging from them, and just long enough to cover her breasts leaving her flat tummy bare. I noticed she hadn’t bothered to put on any panties under the microskirt. But I didn’t complain. She would have won her bet if we had made one. As we wandered through the busy shopping streets of a Tokyo Sunday, the only sign she gave of what was happening under her clothes was to ask occasionally to borrow my handkerchief to wipe away the cunt-juice that was dripping down her bare thighs. But I knew her well enough to tell how much being naked under the tight microskirt, and the exquisite torture of the steel instruments biting into her pretty young breasts, were stimulating her. The shy, innocent look on her face told me she was holding herself back from the point of orgasm only by a great effort. When we got home she begged me to fuck her hard, and I needed no persuasion—I was almost. Christine chuckled softly in the background as Mandy smiled and slowly nodded. “Good,” Mandy told me. “I'll tell Matt that we're good to go when he gets back. By the way, you two, I've told Matt that I am married, but that I'm having a trial separation from my hubby, just so there are no complications. I just wanted you to know in case the subject comes up, even though it probably won't.”Matt returned presently, and Mandy was soon whispering in his ear. I saw him nod, and the pair exchanged several more soft words.Mandy turned to Christine and I. “Matt says that he can drive us all home instead of taking a cab.”“I've only had three drinks all night, so I’m okay to drive” Matt added. “Been drinking coke most of the time.”“Great – thanks!” Christine replied.Almost before I knew it, and with an even greater sense of surrealism, we were soon in Matt’s car heading for Christine’s apartment. Mandy sat in the front seat with him, and Christine and I in the back. As we made small talk, I saw.
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