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A thermos and a couple of plates with Kanelbulle and cookies were laid out. Something I had quickly learned when I arrived in Sweden was their affecti...n for coffee. Everywhere you went, there was coffee. They even had their own word for drinking it. “Fika,” they called it. If a person used that word, off you went for the black brew and a chat, quite nice actually.“Mike, do you fish?” asked Magnus after serving me a cup.“Not really, I did some fishing with my grandfather back in the day, but I. I slid down my pants to reveal my stocking covered legs and gartered boxers I had order online. "Mmmm. You know what I like," he remarked, as he stroked my leg. "I have heels as well, and I can even put the rest of my things on just so no one suspects I'm a male," I said. "That won't be necessary now. We can get to that later. Now, I just want to look at you and touch you," he said as he reached over and cupped my miniscule penis. I let out a soft moan. It always feels good when a man touches. I had a hard on fit to burst with pre cum dripping down my cock. I started to feel Sharon's tits but she whispered no. I knew the drink was effecting her and her resistance was low.I moved my hand between her legs which was dripping wet and started to finger her.She moaned and opened her legs. I knew we were off.I climbed on board my wife and pounded my cock hard into her knowing it might wake up our friend. After some time my friend started to wake.I could feel his hands start to wander over. ” “I was?” She gave me something approaching a matronly look as I drew closer, my hand eagerly, impatiently reaching for her right breast. I squeezed it possessively, trying to see the profile of her nipple though the thin, clingy material. My crotch was about face height with her and she appeared to survey the hard, uncomfortable protrusion in my jeans with some satisfaction. “I suppose I was” she said in a faraway voice, “it was right at the end of the eighties. I was, shall we say, being.
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