OIL ON CANVAS; A WORK IN PROGRESS The boy stood watching us, uninhibited, as Andrea and I attempted to re-arrange our dishevelled appearances. Only moments before, my friend's face had been buried deliciously between my thighs. Her lips were still damp and glistening from her foray. My shirt was open, my tits exposed, hard little nipples protruding eagerly. How embarrassing! I was aware of a deep, warm blush flooding my c...