As the first, intense wave of my orgasm crashed into me, my South African started to do something different with his fingers and mouth. I was in the ...iddle of the most intense orgasm of my life and he stimulated me in just the right way to make the orgasm last much, much long longer than normal. I let out a long, slow yell as this delicious man caused my orgasm to linger at the pinnacle. My legs shook, my stomach twitched, and when my yell finished, I stopped breathing. Whichever muscles. His office is about 7-8 minutes from my apartment, but probably double that during rush hour, so when I got his email, "headed your way", I prepared for a very long 20 minutes of anticipation. I paced the apartment back and forth, constantly checking the peep hole and occasionally stroking my flaccid cock, reminding myself that it was almost game time. Finally a soft knock, and I could already feel myself responding. I opened the door and he walked in, typical attire of jeans and tshirt. He. "And while Art was French-kissing me and feeling out my pussy, he stopped just long enough to grab my hand, and pull it over into his crotch, and place it right on top of his bulge."And I instantly knew that Art wanted me to start feeling out his hard-on. And so I did. I had never done that to a guy before, while I was out on a date. And I could feel my pussy quickly getting a lot wetter inside my pantyhose."Well, that night, my pantyhose just happened to have a run on the inside of my left. I need for you to express the level of our displeasure to him."The old man said nothing. The woman had stopped weeping and stared at one, eyes wide with terror."This is a difficult message to convey, so we are going to go to extraordinary lengths to make sure that you fully understand the level of my displeasure. I have decided that actions speak louder than words. Actions, my friend, that will be completely clear to your son, with no possibility of confusion due to poor translation skills."One.