He forced himself not to look as they left. He was moving now, not to escape but to thrust up into the wet heat of her body, feeling the incredible sensation of her inner muscles gripping him as she moved on him. “Purpose?” he stammered, his brain overwhelmed by pleasure and unable to process her obvious meaning. Two of the three remaining joggers were watching his face intently, skeptically. A lot more. Mei squealed when she got his reply, squirming in her chair in excitement. Yuming watched her, amused and curious as Mei clutched her chair with her eyes closed, gasped a few times, and shuddered. From farther away like this, the twitches would need to be a bit less subtle, but would still do the job. That feeling he had had in the restaurant — the one that made him panic and flee, the feeling that they were all wet for him, their pussies all clenching with thoughts of him, craving him — it was now a very present certainty.
