Now I am not a perverted horny but with such a picture of a sweet, handsome woman, a late thirties, I still felt something move. She might as well but...what I did notice was that she saw something move. She remained professional though, but it took a long time for the reaction fluid to be injected into my arm, perhaps because her gaze was always wandering; just like mine by the way ... spray and arm turned out to be of little interest to us ... how could that happen anyway. It couldn't go on, we. She was wanting something; I couldn't quite tell, so I picked up some gel, and passed it to her, brushing her breast as I did.She looked flustered, and I don't know why, but I made a crude wise crack, and she blushed below that dusky skin. She hurried off, and I thought, "oh well my pulling days are over, she probably thinks, sad old git."I paid at the check out and drove round to the station. I parked my car in one of the few available places right over by the station wall. Everyone seems to. So I started to play with her ass rubbing her with my fingers I was running my fingers up and down her crack through her panties they were soaked to the point of dripping. Man was she wound up pulled off her panties , thank god she wore a skirt I berried my face in her sweet ass and just licked for all I was worth she moaned soft at first then with more of a growl. As I licked deeper in her sweet puss the sweet taste was unbeleveable.Mike was really getting into it I could hear him saying some. I want my turn of your fine dick back there. As I told you, I love it in the butt. Few things make me feel so deliciously owned as when a man plows the backfield on me. Plunders my booty. Buggers me. Rams my rump. You get the idea.“I’d love to wear your collar, too. Maybe even one where you attach and detach a leash to it. I don’t think that you quite realize how much I love the idea of being your pleasure slave. Yes, I read the works of John Norman, his novels of Gor. I found the idea of being.