#370829 - Lucy changed the CD to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, and we did our best impression of Uma Thurman and John Travolta before collapsing in a giggling heap by the bed, and began chatting, slightly more manically than usual, our eyes constantly meeting and then one of us would look away a few seconds later. Once there, I stroked the front of her black knickers, her pubic hair beneath forming a kind of cushion covered by the material, with only a couple of individual curls escaping under the elastic, and a damp patch, while not too visible in the dim light, was perfectly evident to my fingers as they played over where her hole was. After I had slipped out of her, accompanied by a discharge of cum and pussy juice, which trickled warmly and wetly over both our legs on to the bed, we remained looking at each other in a kind post-orgasmic stupor.