She never noticed how hard Preston worked on his poems and assumed that he cared more about having fun with words, similar to the way she had fun at t...e Village cafés. She never thought of him as a serious man, but more lighthearted, fun-loving, and life-loving.One afternoon they met in Central Park and lay out on the Great Lawn with lubed-up sun-worshippers all around them. He brought along books of poetry, and she listened to him read romantic lines that touched the deepest parts of her,. He moved behind her and aligned his aching cock. First he rubbed his head all over her lips. He loved the feeling of her juices on her lips, but he wanted more. With a small push his head was inside the marvelous cunt. He then slowly pushed until his entire member had vanished inside her. He took a minute to enjoy the feeling around his cock, then he pulled out almost the entire way before thrusting back inside her. He had started a slow but steady pace. He grabbed her hips so he could thrust. " Magdalena didn't take her eyes off me."Pero el Diablo era un angel." The Devil was an angel," Janet guessed.The old woman nodded."Esa no lo va ayudar." The old woman said, pointing her chin at Bailey. "Si esta a su lado, no le importa lo de mas."Janet looked at Bailey."I'm not going to help him choose," Bailey said. "Demon or Saint, I don't care as long I'm with him." You're all crazy," Janet said. "You most of fucking all, Bailey."The old woman and Bailey shared a look. The old woman had. “Just remembering old times,” she smiled at him.The man looked at the fresh-faced pretty woman and smiled. She looked like a hippy but there was something about her; something not quite right.Michele was used to that look by now and shrugged it off.“Well you should have asked first. That’s my place you know,” the man admonished her but smiled.“Really? I wouldn’t fess up to owning that dump but never mind; I’ll buy a souvlaki from you how’s that?” Michele grinned.“Hey a pretty girl like you? I’m.