“Don’t know if you can help me though.”“Ol’ Gus here knows where lot’s o’ things are in this city. So you tell me. Whatchu lookin’ fo�...�?”She shrugged. “I’m looking for a boy.”He perked up. “Well, shit girl! I ain’t busy!”She smiled. “You’re sweet, but you’re not the one I’m looking for.”He rocked in frustration. “Ah, hell! Well, ain’t no matter! Can’t get it up anymo’ anyhow. What can I do you fo’? Who’s dis boy you lookin’ fo’?”“I ... don’t know his name.” she confessed. She thought about the. Then one hand moved down, across the curve of her belly, leaving one breastpushed up into prominance. She pushed her hips backwards against me,wriggling against the stiffness she found. Our kiss broke with a slightgasp from her lips. Eyes closed, tongue moistening lips, a smile playingon the corners of her mouth. The hem of her dress was gathered by fingers playing along the front ofher thighs. Cloth gave way to a touch of smooth skin, then eye followedhand as I pulled her hem higher,. * * * She had dressed in distressed boot cut jeans that fit her booty more perfectly than she could have imagined possible, and a loose black off-the-shoulder angora sweater. She had left her hair in soft curls and they waved around her face and shoulders giving her a certain untamed look. He liked it. A lot. She looked amazing and he smelled her own vanilla scent and… cinnamon? He was starving and would have to ask soon, but there were more pressing matters. He pushed the door shut behind. Voor hun genot. En waar ik jou hetzelfde zie doen. Heel even neemt verstand over. Het verwart me. En dan zie ik in de zaal en zie de schoonheid van die twee mensen aan tafel 2. Heel verzorgd zijn ze. De man in mooi donker grijs, bijna zwart kostuum. Cognac kleurige schoenen onder. Geen das, wit hemd vast tot het voorlaatste knopje. Verder strak. En zij in een sensuele baljurk. Zwart. Eentje met split van haar enkels tot op haar dij. Ragfijne hakjes. Haar kleine tietjes ogenschijnlijk los in het.