Masturbation

Silence.

Several heartbeats passed. Then Tara laughed.

“Is that all you got?” she said. “Cute little party tricks?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” I said. “You’ll see.” Privately, I was hoping they would see, but realistically, I was wondering what the hell had gone wrong.

“Well, so glad we could have this little chat,” said Tara, “but our burgers are getting cold. So, scoot along, little girls. Come back when you’re wearing your big girl panties.”

Teeth clenched, I turned. “C’mon, Alice,” I said. “Let’s leave the losers to their dinner.”

Alice joined me and we made our way toward the exit. We had almost reached the door when we heard a gasp.

Alice and I stopped and turned. When we saw what was happening, we laughed and high-fived each other.

Tara was leaning back in her seat, her skirt around her waist. Her hand was shoved inside her panties and her fingers were working her obviously soaking wet pussy. Her hips were bucking and she was mewling with need. She appeared unable to stop herself.

The Asian Bit had torn open the front of her jeans and was assaulting her helpless little clit just as vigorously. Her moans competed with Tara’s and it appeared to be a race to see who would reach climax first.

Tara won, but it didn’t matter, as her fingers continued to slide in and out of her over-lubricated tunnel. The manager was standing in front of the table now, demanding they stop, but they continued working themselves into a heated frenzy. The manager, of course, had no idea they were unable to stop, and he continued scolding them in a rising pitch. The scene was hysterical.

Alice and I took out our journals and made a few quick notes. It was a wasted gesture—Tara and Bit were completely and helplessly occupied—but style demanded it. Then we closed our books and made our exit.