I turned on the television, in an attempt to drown out my moans, and played with my pussy until I exploded in one satisfactory moan. Masturbating felt...good, but it was no comparison to my husband’s eight-inch cock. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. I hadn’t thought anyone was home, turning the television on had become a habit, and I was surprised to see Manik, my eighteen year old son, sitting at the kitchen table looking at a parts catalogue for vintage roadster he had been rebuilding. For a woman travelling alone however, there're always are a few annoying issues. Whenever I go to a bar, even in the hotel I am staying in, there are always men trying to hit on me. I do not mind a hard cock, but only if it’s a strap on attached to a sexy woman. And that is the other issue. In most countries, there are lots of bars catering for gay men. However, there are almost none for lesbians. Regardless, I went downstairs to the second floor to a bar called Rumpoles. I had been there. More

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