I wasn't so supprised has it wasn't the first time, so we just start talking while watching the game. After a couple of minutes, though, I feel one of...her foot sliding towards my crotch. I turn my head to look at her, but she's not even looking and doesn't seem to notice. So I decided not to move. Maybe she doesn't even know?But at that point, I start to feel her foot moving a pattern... Tracing my now semi-erect dick. I turn my head again, but this time, she is looking straight at me, staring. I noticed the difference in their accents, Florence had that gentle middle class polite accent, whereas Margaret’s was more of the cockney accent of East London, from where she was from as I was to find out later. Once it was ready Florence brought it to us on a tray and placed in on the coffee table in front of us, then returned with a platter of pastries. Margaret poured Tea for all of us, something she enjoyed as the hostess. We enjoyed it as we chatted, or rather Margaret and Darleen talked. More

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