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They stripped off their smoke-saturated clothes, grabbed towels and headed to the shower room.Mancini stood under the cascading water, white soapsuds mingling with the black hair on his chest and stomach, washing his armpits, his groin, his ass crack, his muscular thighs. He used the same bar of soap to wash the smell of smoke from his black hair which had a tendency to curl in whichever direction it chose.Anders stood under the opposite showerhead. The steamy water streamed from his straight,. "He looks like my Henry, she said. "My husband." Henry's a cyclist?" Yeah, he was pretty serious about it once..." She turned her head to watch the cyclist as they passed by. "He'd go out every Saturday with a group of people and they'd ride a hundred miles or so." Jesus, he must be in great shape." Yeah," she said dryly. "Bicycles bore the hell out of me, to tell you the truth. Always breaking down, and when they're not broken, you've got to fiddle with them to keep them tuned just right. The. I gagged but kept going. I moaned with pleasure and encouraged him to fuck me harder and deep. He started moving his hips and trusting into my mouth, now grabbing my hair. My heart racing, my head throbbing, the rush of water everywhere, I was lost in the moment. I felt Theo start to throb and slowed down. I pulled his cock out of my mouth and gasped for air. I looked up at him smiling down at me, enjoying the show. "You weren’t going to cum without fucking me were you?" I teased."Wouldn't. Greta felt horrible that they had heard them talking about thesheriff but she didn't blame them for fleeing as any rational personwould flee too.The bus arrived at Haymarket and allowed the girls to start looking for aplace to hide out for the night. It was tough to do as the temperaturewas starting to drop down to the low single digits forcing them to stayclose to one another as they walked. There was no clear destination, theywere trying their hardest to blend in and find anywhere they could.
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