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She was going to slip the pants, little more than boxers, on first while the gown kept him modestly covered but Ginger shucked off the sleeve on his right arm and held out the left so she could ease that sleeve over his bandages.That left him with a scrunched up gown over his lap, with a suspicious lump in the middle.Margaret slid the short sleeved top onto his arm and leaned towards him so she could pass it around to his good side.It was a little trick of her own -- invading the patient's personal space, daring them to take some action either naughty, which she could complain about, or retreating in abject fear, which tended to stop further propositions; a sort of put up or shut up test that tended to be win-lose in her favour regardless of the outcome.Occasionally the patient stood firm but remained restrained -- then it could be win-win all round. Ginger proved able to meet her challenge and turned so his lips barely missed scraping her cheek as she looked over his shoulder to. The men at the back of the theater saw that I had a women with me due to the light from the open doors to the lobby, but Im also sure that even with the darkness of the theater the men seated could tell I was with a women. As we pretended to be watching the movie we could see some of the men moving closer to our seats and one guy even sat in our row leaving one empty seat between him and my wife. I took this as a signal to put my plan into action. I lifted the arm rest between my wife and I and wispered for her to scoot down in her seat. I then attempted to lift her skirt to expose her pussy but she quicky grabbed the skirt to hold it down. In a wisper I asked her if she wanted the fantasy to come true or not and after about a minute of thinking she released the skirt and I slid it up past her hips exposing her pussy. I then applied gentle pressure to the inside of her thighs spreading her legs as I lifted her leg closest to me over my thigh. This allowed me good access to play with.
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“There’s a torch in the Porsche. Much more useful than that tiny thing.”“Thanks. I’ll try to find it.”The torch was in a clip under the dashboard. It was expensive and powerful. I turned the ignition on and the GPS. I wrote the position down on the back of a credit card slip before turning everything off again. I took the torch and climbed around the car. Julia must have been travelling slowly. The ‘fence’ she had hit was two hurdles tied together with binding twine. They were under the front wheels. As far as I could tell the Porsche wasn’t even scratched. The front had slid down against soft mud. “Jo…” whoever he was, might have to pay for a new airbag but that might be all. I checked the interior and luggage compartment. They were totally empty. There wasn’t even a scrap of paper to give a clue to the owner’s identity. I wrote the car’s registration on the credit car slip, replaced the torch in the Porsche, hid the ignition keys under the passenger seat, and returned to Julia. “The.

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