She reached behind herself grabbing her arse cheeks; and pulled them apart revealing the opening to her rectum.“Sure you don’t want to take me the...e? Don’t worry, I love anal, and I emptied myself just in case of, well you know,” she said shyly.She reached out, offering me the tube again, and this time I took it from her.Pat and I hadn’t had anal sex, we had tried but she said it was too painful. She didn’t mind watching it when it was in a porn movie, but never said she would like to try. She was determined to interject herself in my life, so I planned to take advantage of that fact. Mostly to tag along when she went to the grocery store.During the next three days, the travel trailer would be moved just off the rear of the concrete driveway. The plumber was coming along to install an adapter to allow the dump tank to empty raw sewage directly into the waste pipe of the house. There was no need for him to do anything about the drinking water supply. I was already determined to. On the night before her departure, I spent the better part of an hour buried to the hilt inside her anal passageway with Annette assisting by licking her mistress on the other side with her skilled and talented tongue of depraved delight.The mature but infinitely still attractive lady of leisure pushed her plump ass up for further outrages and she patted the frenzied head of her personal maid with her regal hand telling her, “Yes, right there, my love. You have managed to find my elusive secret. The Casbah itself. The accumulated wisdom of half a dozen TV shows said that singles bars were a good place to score lonely women. I made my grand entrance into Rudy's Rutabaga, strutted my stuff, and grabbed a vacant chair. I was a sharp-looking dude and it didn't take long to hit the jackpot. Sherry Zahd, her name was, account exec for the Forty Weaves textile design firm, jet-setter, woman of the world. A real princess. An older gal, maybe twice my age, but good looking. She would do. Took.