I kept jamming my cock in and out of her bald pussy, my thighs slapping against her ass. On one outward thrust I paused, cock-head still inside and I ...pread her cheeks wide to get a look at her tiny asshole. It was tight and wound up like a little red sun. I pushed back into her slowly as I moved my thumb toward her asshole. She sucked in a little air with surprise as my thumb pressed against her tight hole. Reflexively her butthole tightened as my thumb cautiously pushed against it. I could. Carrie Mackenzie was her grade school best friend, who had married a Scotsman and moved with him to Norway, due to his work with the EU. Fergus Mackenzie was not your standard Eurocrat, with bowler hat, umbrella, etc. He still looked very much the Scot, except for the bagpipes and kilt, of course. ‘Susie, dear, you’re really here! Well, I feared that you’d back out, since I’ve been trying to get you to visit me for some time now. It’s lovely to see you here, darling.,’ Carrie told her. Susie,. If he inched any closer to it, he’d probably set his motley on fire. He called out to the tapster for another mulled wine. ‘After you earn your keep you old trickster. Tell us a tale to gladden our faces and warm our frostbitten hearts.’ He bellowed back in return, followed by the murmur of much agreement by my fellow trapped passengers. I had been on my way home from the Christmas Court of the King to my retirement lands granted to me near the coast of Cornwall, and I had made it most of the. In the office, she took the phone book out of a drawer, opened it and looked up the number of the motel. She wrote it down and handed me the slip of paper. “Here’s the number.” “You’re very helpful,” I said, smiling at her. Our eyes met. “That’s really something that you know someone in Maine who lives in the woods and off the grid like I do.” She nodded and smiled. Again our eyes met. “An amazing coincidence,” I added. “It is,” she said, with a slightly perplexed expression, scrunching her.