(See link below for that story) Patricia spread our beach blanket on the hot sand. She was wearing my favorite neon yellow bikini. Her top barely cove...ed her B-cup sized perky breasts. I could make out the small patch of hair that I had manicured earlier in the morning hiding beneath the crotch of her bikini. “Let’s go into the water,” she commanded. And off we went. The water was exceptionally warm. We both dove into the surf simultaneously and swam out to the sand bar about 100 yards off. His gaze lingered on her chest where the sweaty dancing had made her top stick to her tits, but this time she made no effort to cover herself. After another hour or two and several more drinks both Faye and I were in a good place, happily dancing around the club and no longer self-conscious about our age. I left Faye on the dance floor whilst going to get some more drinks. After what seemed like an eternity I got our drinks and returned to dance with my sexy wife. When I got back I was pleased. "You're cleaningup if she throws up!" Yes dear," he said with a smile before looking down at me and thentickling my chin. "She really did pick the wrong clothes for you!" You have no idea," I muttered quietly.She came around with a cart to him and he secured the carrier to thefront of the cart somehow to where she could push and look at me. "Therewe go Princess!" she said with a smile. She took the large juice cupfrom my hands and popped the pacifier back in. Knowing it was in my bestinterest. Many of the throng fondled and teased her. As her hands were bound behind her she was unable to resist these further indignities in any way. The belt ensured that she was unable to lift her bottom off the pale, about half of which had entered her poor suffering rectum.Part way through this terrible ordeal she saw Mr Griffith approaching carrying a stepladder and a pair of ropes. With help from the other guests the ropes were slung over well spread branches and tied to Miranda’s ankles. In.
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