"They walked quietly to a small bistro on a side street that tried to look English or Irish, The Oaken Bucket it was called with an ornate wooden sign...hanging out front. He led her to a table on the side of the faux-paneled room with its ornate coats of arms, and they sat and put down their work. "You have to fetch beer here, no waiters." He remembered his long-ago trip to England with his wife and their time in a smelly pub, a very misty memory."I'll get it," she said with a smile. "My idea;. Quickly one of the younger guys fastened himself to your left breast, licking and sucking it as the other younger guy started doing the same on the other side, burying his face in you. Another guy, in his 30s and built about like me, slid into place with his face buried in your crotch, inhaling your essence and then probing you with his tongue. This got you going and I got onto the bed with them, slightly rolling your hips to one side so I could bury my tongue in your ass. You puckered with. Have to improvise. Apartment building across street good enough for surveillance. Door man and weak fire escape. Smuggle myself in during early morning, when people go to work. Hit the roof by eight. Spent most of day sleeping under old tarp left covering furniture. Woke with sunset, moved into position at cornice. Can see it all from up here. Once upon a time, couldn’t stand so close to the edge. Afraid of heights. Long time ago. Got over it. Still remember being afraid of falling, though.. Pretty impressive—as even soft was still a good piece of meat. He went up and down my thick shaft, maintaining a good grip with his lips. It only took a few moments to bone me up to it's full 11”. Occasionally he would pause at the top, and run his tongue into my piss slit. Every time he did that my cock would throb and it felt sooo fuckin good. Finally after about 15 minutes he came up, and asked if I was gonna bust. I looked up at him and just said “whenever you ready dawg—it's gonna be a.