Just to make sure everything is in order before we make the withdrawal." She was staring at me again with that look. The look that said she knew who I was... and wasn't."Well... I don't have another ID on me. But I assure you that I am Miss Thompson." I suppose your right. How silly of me to even question your word. In fact, let me do you a favor." With that, she took out a scissors and right in my face, cut the ID card in two. My jaw dropped."Opps, so sorry Miss Thompson. I guess you won't be using that any time soon." She took the two pieces of my ID and dropped them into the trash bin. "But I'm sure you won't mind, since it wasn't real to begin with."That was it. She just admitted what I already suspected. She knew I was a fake. I could feel sweat forming on my body as she stared at me. I glanced at the door out of the corner of me eye. I wanted run. I wanted to burst through those doors and get as far away from this woman as possible. I felt my eyes begin to water.She looked at. While her behavior with Roger today had not yet gone beyond the relatively liberal and expansive bounds of the accepted at this festival, she had no desire to expose herself or Roger, or Amélie and Gérard, to undesired attention.“Roger,” she whispered when she broke the kiss. “Let me, will you?” Roger had already experienced the effects of Sandrine’s request to let her do any variety of things. Now, his smile answered her.She let her fingers trace the side of his neck to his mouth. Her finger pads moved over his lips. When he felt them there he parted them and sucked each fingertip gently. The wet on her fingers somehow transmitted itself to the secret place between her thighs, and she felt her moisture increase. Frustration, too, because she knew this afternoon, no matter what other pleasures they might sample nor how tempted she might be, she would not permit his manhood between her legs. In her mouth, that was a different story, and one she thought might conclude the day very.
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