I glanced down and my pussy was moving as if being touched by an invisible hand. She grabbed her left breast and began to massage while she rubbed her...clit. My left breast moved in sync with hers. As I was magically molested by my own reflection I remained speechless. I must have been in a really vivid dream, or at least I thought at the time, and enjoyed her expert touch. I arched my backed as my pussy began to spasm. As I came closer, my reflection fingered me harder and more rapidly. My body. But if a woman offered herhand to the man, then they were kissed on the hand, impressing womenwho had been forced from their homes by violent and Neanderthal men.The sauve, diplomatic touch of the men melted away many of the fearsthe women had about men. These were not merely men: they weregentlemen.Soon there were only two men remaining on the porch, and the othersheaded off down the street towards the church, with about half of thewomen holding the hand of their partner, and all were smiling.. More

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