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I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them and my underwear down. She looked at my cock for a second, smiled at me and just sighed “WOW”, she kissed the head of my dick and licked around the base of the head. She looked up, smiled and said “now it is time to put some lipstick on your dipstick”. She started slowly into her mouth, inching my 9” pulsing cock toward her throat, she hit her tonsils and gagged a bit and pulled me out of her mouth quickly. She swallowed her spit and looked up at me with. I stopped and checked him out. He was in his late 30's, blond and had an average build with some body hair. I slowly walked by, and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I saw his head prop up and could see him looking at me. Was he cruising? Or just tanning? I walked to the end of the clearing and glanced back once. He was staring at me. I got rock hard, but kept walking. Fuck it, I thought. I turned back around and went back to the trail I came in from. He got up from the table and. She couldn’t say she, knew, him, but, ‘Ohhhh BaabbbbAAAAAAAABBbbyy,’ she cried. Never seen him before. He came in at midnight. She began descending into Midtown when her husband’s practice began ascending out of New York to Tucson a week a month. She never dabbled more than once a day nor dallied more than a week a trip. She ended each day of her sojourns clubbing in the Village. She ducked in her favorite early for a strategic, quiet-end seat. Near panic-bar fitted stage-doors, next to a 150. “Excellent,” Gerry glanced at the speedometer and knitted his brow. He seemed determined to beat the cheap little car to pieces. “How fast is that in American?” “Slowwww dowwwwn!” In American? What an idiot. Rolling his eyes, he eased off the gas. He turned to me with that big grin of his, white teeth lighting up his suntanned face. “Better, Lynnie?” “Don’t call me that; I hate it,” I shifted in my seat, pressing my back against the door, to face him. “Better… at least now we can talk.” I saw.
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