" Dirty bastards!" Yeah, they sure are kinky," he groaned.A slurping sound drifted down the line, like someone sucking the last drops from a milkshake..."What was that?" Nothing," he gasped, "just a little pre cum oozing out my nob. Don't you like to taste yourself? Come on," he persisted when Jimmy said nothing, "just us guys here, who's to know? I won't tell." How do i know that?" Because i say so. Don't worry. You're alone, right?" Yes." Why not have a little fun of your own then, why should. He leaned into the bar right beside me, placed his hand on my back and said, "A woman dressed that well doesn’t drink chardonnay.” He then turned to the bartender and said, “Champagne for the lady. Dom Perignon.” The bartender said, “Sir, that is only sold by the bottle.” “Then open one up,” he said. We spoke for some time. We talked about me and about him. He was in town for a few days to close a deal and then it was off to London for another one. He hadn't been home in three months. The. It was only a 2 room apartment in a fading Victorian apartment block, but it was their home. Joe’s fierce independence had given him the wings to fly when he left the army in 1948 bringing Irene with him from the hop-fields of Kent to make a nest in Scotland. He was privately proud of his achievements so far, coming through the war unscathed. He had served in India and Burma and finally in Japan with the Royal Engineers. One of his roles as an Engineer was the debris clearance in Hiroshima. ‘Ple…ohmygo….Bae….plea….’ I desperately look up at you. ‘Please baby!’ You slowly pull out. Your head rubbing my g-spot on the way out, sending my body a quick convulsion. You kiss me again. You slide back down as your hand pulls my thong over. You demand me to beg again. I plea. Your tongue attacks me and sends my body into a lip biting fit. After a while you stop and come up to me again. This time you go straight into me without asking anything. Your thrusts are slow. Slow because it seems to.