“Part your thighs, Kristen,” Ryder whispered behind me.
I couldn’t help but look around at the quiet dining room where there were several dozen guests leisurely enjoying their meals. Thankfully, most were gazing out the long bank of windows that faced the ocean where the sky was still lit with the last remnants of the setting sun.
“Kristen,” Ryder had to prompt me in my hesitation. I parted my thighs as instructed, allowing the stranger’s cool hand to roam about the valley of my s*x. When his finger grazed my labia, I inwardly shuddered, but did nothing that would call attention to me; not even a small gasp escaped my lips. He fingered me deeper between my labia and I shuddered again.
“Wet,” he said.
“She produces copious juices with little effort,” Ryder told him. “f*****g can go on f
