So I just sauntered past him, my girlfriend, Sam, walking at my side.She was in her usual baggy clothes: sweatshirt and pants. Her black hair was gath...red in a loose braid. She didn’t wear her hair that way to look cute—though, she did look cute in a nerdy way—but to keep her hair out of her face. She was a practical sort of person. Her emotions almost entirely suppressed. When they flared in her, they burned bright.It made her ... interesting.She was a delight to be around. If you glanced at. " He tore a page from a diary or some kind of French Filofax thing and scribbled away with a chewed blue BiC ballpoint pen. I took the paper from his beefy hand and gave him a sly wink.With indecent haste, just a couple of days later I was over at his apartment. It was located off a swish and swanky little mews not so far from me. He greeted me like a long-lost friend, kissing both my cheeks like many foreigners and the French always seem to do. We sat down on a leather chaise, cuddling. ”“I can’t, I shouldn’t.”“You can, you should.”“Marcus,” you manage to whisper and I groan softly, the gentle plea that is in you simply saying my name is a shot to my senses.“Come with me,” I guide you off the stool and towards the back of the bar, we exit out a side door and into an alley, “you’re beautiful, sexy and I want you; now!”I lower myself in front of you and push your skirt up to your hips; I stare up at you and gently press a kiss against your mound, my tongue snaking under the. I leaned forward and cleaned off her face, my chest pressing against hers, smothering the cream across the whole of her breasts while my cock still darted in and out of her. I licked her clean, feeling the bumps of her nipples teasing my mouth. Her legs were in the air now, toes teasing my ears. I was still driving my hips into her like a machine, feeling my love for her outweigh our circumstance. I retreated from her and knelt, letting my tongue work between her legs. Her orgasm became audible.