The panties fall from her mouth onto her tits, she can't contain herself. I forcefully place my left hand over her mouth in fear of someone hearing th... sounds of our sex.What if someone knocks? What if the cleaning lady opens the door? All of these possible scenarios of being caught while at work dance through my head. Fuck it, she tastes too good and I long for her touch too much to care about being caught.Her hips girate as her juices flow down my fingers. I start finger fucking her harder,. I put them in my zippered pocket right over my heart behind the metal cigarette case that I stupidly hoped would stop an AK-47 round coming my way from courtesy of some unknown sniper that probably couldn’t read or write and never bothered to wipe his or her ass for lack of either paper or concern about walking around with a shitty ass.A pesky tiny girl with dirty bare feet and a hat that made her look like a dunce tried to con us into buying cans of coke cold with the ice she kept in a small. I still looked pretty good. My lipstick had faded a bit again but other than that, there were no obvious flaws. I stripped down to my bra and panties and went to the bathroom, where I relieved myself and washed the makeup off my face. With some effort, I removed the tight wig. Next, all my underwear came off and I stepped into the shower. Ten minutes later, I was toweling myself dry while listening to the news on the bedroom television. The local weather girl was saying how the next day was. Apologising I went about my business as he left. There is something about the glancing look of `recognition`that clicks in the mind from previous encounters. Continuing on the cycle route I caught up with him walking his racer, and asked if there was a problem. He said no, just enjoying the warm sea breeze on his open fronted top; so I walked with him, introducing myself. Jon was in his early seventies & pretty fit at that. We got to talking about lycra wear and how awkward it can be in such.