Arching her back and pulling up her t-shirt, Steve kissed her bare breasts, flicking her hard nipples with his tongue and sucking them. His hand travelled slowly up her bare leg, bunching her short skirt up around her waist and finding her shaved pussy, moist with anticipation as his finger parted her easily. She moaned as he rubbed her clit, applying pressure as she ran her hands through his hair, his finger penetrating her slowly, her breath quickening. He kissed her mouth, his finger, fully inserted into her, was joined by another. She kissed him hungrily as she tried to unbutton his shirt but faltered, gripping the edge of the seat as her orgasm peaked and she cried out. He removed his fingers and sucked them as she lay back, panting, looking at him through starry eyes as she recovered her composure. He stood, she took his proffered hand, swung her luscious legs around and sat up. Steve sat beside her as she held his hand on her lap. He could feel her thigh shaking, thrumming. Shiggie never complained, it seemed. I tried to put myself in his place and imagine what it would be like, day in and day out in a foreign culture, listening to people talking to each other and mostly leaving you out.But Shiggie seemed to be thriving. Then again, why should he bitch about life's little inconveniences? He had money in the bank -- in two countries, probably. And he had us! He had Amy, and me -- Good Old Sam.And Ford.I was pretty sure he'd had Ford, in the Biblical Sense. (Hey -- do gay guys do it in the Biblical Sense?)Once again that evening, the four of us made a pretty joyful group, and the loud laughter coming from our table probably annoyed some of the other customers. Why is it that sometimes, other people having a good time can be so annoying? I've felt the same way, on occasion -- vaguely resentful of the happy group at the next table over. Why are those people having more fun than I am?Tonight, though, we were being the annoying ones.Ford picked up pretty.
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