A split second later, the buzzing stopped. By 11 or so we were all gassed and headed to our tents for what we all hoped would be a deep, long sleep. The first hall we visited was a massive warehouse space filled with oversized Richard Serra sculptures. The idea was to jump on the hills, similar to a trampoline, and have at least three separate senses triggered at the same time. It was Cynthia. With her every move, each breast jiggled high, begging to be set free. Quietly, I asked if she was “ready to get out of here?” and with a barely-perceptible nod of her head we were gone. Her pussy juice was dripping down her legs. It seemed like a win-win, we still get to go on our trip and she doesn’t have to spend her weekend alone in the city. Like a siren’s song, it was calling me, begging for me to embrace it. and she liked it! She was using a vibrator and, from the sound of it, was about to climax.
