A long sculpted neck cascaded to meet the line of her collarbone. Her chest swelled with her upturned breasts, pointed by magenta colored nipples with...areola puffed, swollen and extended. The kind of nipples I affectionately call “bottle cap” nipples. The porcelain-like expanse of her belly, rising above the mons of her vagina, was a place I knew I could rest my head for eternity. And her legs, her legs were long and well figured. So spry and fit I could see her calves flex and tighten as she. "Did he want me?" Fuck that was ridiculous. "Was it? Was he just being friendly? Maybe." Who knows? I couldn't concentrate worth a shit.I smiled back, and raised a hand in a bit of a wave. I lay on the bench, pressing weight, not paying attention to anything, when I heard a deep voice."Can I give you a hand? Need a spotter for that?" he asked.I opened my eyes, looked up, RIGHT UP THE PANT LEGS OF HIS SHORTS DIRECTLY AT HIS GORGEOUS BLACK COCK hanging above me. I almost dropped the barbell.He. I wanted Gerald to be making love to me every minute of every day and every night, for the rest of our lives.I suppose most people will think I’m a nasty girl because I’m in love with an old foreign man, and we have sex a LOT. Well, it’s a lot according to my girlfriends, anyway. Most days it seems just perfect to me. A few days every month, it feels a couple of orgasms short of perfect. My guy would eat me or finger me to get me off more times, but I don’t feel as satisfied if we don’t end up. Concern? Sorrow? Desire? I wasn’t sure. I cleared my throat and looked down. I focused on my wrapped ankle, and lifting my foot, proceeded to fidget uncomfortably with the bandage on it. Steven continued to stare at me. He finally broke the silence first. ‘Not hungry, Sarah?’ I shrugged noncommittally, and continued to play with my ankle. My eyes watered at the kindness and concern in his voice. ‘Look at me?’ he pleaded. Startled, I looked up and met his eyes. He must have seen the tears.