"Yes, I see," the miserable wretch agreed, "but your shaft is so much longer and thicker than mine. It reaches deeper in her." Mmm,, oh yes it does. I... feels wonderful." the woman breathed excitedly.Her face was buried in the coverlet. Her ass was stuck up in the air. Her thighs were wide apart and my cock was right up her as I stood between them with her impaled. She was my next door neighbour and I'd only moved into the neighbourhood two weeks earlier. She'd struck up a conversation with me. I mean, I knew she could be wild, kinky and impulsive but...this?!?I got to the porn theater before she did and hung out in the larger main room - her eventual destination - and waited. There were the usual mix of characters milling about, some making sure to keep their hands in their pockets and their heads down...the others, looking to make knowing eye contact, hoping for some kind of action... If you've never been to a porn theater, this is pretty much what you can expect. The one thing that. It works on so many levels. What's the occasion for this pleasant interruption? Let me guess: you want to discuss names for the baby. I was thinking Kunta Kinte if it's a boy and Nya Boto if it's a girl." Ha ha. Very cute." He recognized that name Kunta Kinte from Roots, the famous 1970's miniseries about slavery that had been assigned in their social studies class not that long ago. "In all seriousness, I need to talk to you at length about the Great Bitchy One."As he was saying that, he heard. In the lounge area. Rick said to go in the lounge and he would find us. On the way over she commented to me that she felt like a whore. Does that turn you on I asked and she said yes. We walked into the lounge area and were kinda looking around. This tall black guy (late 40s)stands up and says hi are you Diane. Hi I am David he said introducing himself. He was siting on a couch. Had a bottle of Stags Leap Petit Sirah. Our favorite and two extra glasses for us. I could tell she was really.