It was not late, only about 8:30pm and after sitting on a plane for 10 hours, I needed to stretch my legs. “Good idea Rod, let’s go.” We locked ...he door, she slipped her arm into mine, and down the stairs we went. The hotel is very close to the sea and I could hear the waves and felt the breeze coming in off the ocean. I suggested we walk down to the ocean which was only about 50-60 meters away. There were no street lamps along the way but that evening was a full moon with no clouds which. The sixteen-year-old babysitter was dry-humping my wife in our marital bed, and all I could do was watch.After a few minutes he pulled back. Thank God, I thought to myself, he realized what a bad thing he was doing. He's going to go back to the living room, whack off and go to sleep.Deluded.He inexpertly pulled off my wife's panties, then gazed at her distended vaginal lips. He reached out and touched them, causing my wife to push her crotch at his fingers. She was still out of it, and. We had been joined by eight newcomers to the party, a few of them I surprisingly recognised.One was Henry Whitaker, an Olympic showjumper married to a minor royal. She sat somewhat self-consciously on my side of the table next to John Spencer, the English actor, and his wife, whose name escapes me but whose face I knew from the newspapers.The evening had begun uneventfully, with everyone sitting around a long candlelit table on the terrace. A small group of waitresses poured wine and brought. She was flummoxed though and wasn’t sure what to say.Emma looked at the shopping bag and asked, “Buy something nice, mum?”Elizabeth got up and picked up the bag and took out the dress she had bought and held it up.“That’s really lovely, mum. Why not try it on?” Emma said with the friendliest of smiles. “I’ll unzip you,” she offered.Elizabeth relaxed and in front of Emma slipped her dress down her arms and pushed it to the floor, stepped out of it, scooped it up, and put it on the chair..
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