I was listening to Tommy Dorsey's lyrical trombone in 'On Treasure Island' with vocals sung by Edyth Wright, when I heard a tentative knock on the doo.... I turned the radio off and said, "Come in." When she opened the door and came in I was struck dumb. The first things to enter were her exquisite legs. Clad in black stockings, they shimmered as they moved. The rest of her was aces as well. This babe was a looker, a butter and egg fly. She stood in front of my desk waiting for me to invite her. He flipped me over onto my back and crouched over me. His hands came down onto my waist and I wriggled and squeaked as he tickled my waist, tummy, feet, neck — basically everywhere he could reach. He had me begging for mercy and he didn’t let up. Eventually I felt his strong hands stop and flatten themselves to the curves of my waist. I dared to open one eye and peek at him. When I saw that his face was only an inch or two away from mine, both my eyes flew open to look at him. We were both. It was always hard and could be up to twenty inches longs and six inches in diameter. It had ridges on it every inch of so, the ridge protruding out about an inch from the rest of it. The series of ridges numbered about 20 on a large instrument. The end of the appendage had what looked liked two horns on it. They stood out about two inches to the side. This was used for the sense of “touch,” they could feel objects with it. They call this appendage their “kock”. About four inches below this. Helping me into my leather look leggings, he then stood behind me, holding my tender breast as I pulled my tight red top over my head. Placing the palm of his hands over my nipples, I slid the tight top into place. He skilfully removed his hands from my breast, smoothing them down my stomach and around my waist. I turned to kiss him with my spunk tasting mouth, slipping my tongue softly into his mouth.Breaking apart from our goodbye kiss, I scribbled my phone down on a pad and signed Slut, as.