When he pressed one, it did depress half way into the table and a soft musical note was heard coming from the box. It was a sound very similar to that...made by a touch-tone telephone on his world. Then after what he estimated to be eight or nine seconds, the sound stopped and the depressed button lifted itself to its initial position. When he pressed another button, the same thing happened but a different note was emitted. He then tried pressing two or more buttons simultaneously. But each time. Tara was forced to choose one of the longer queues because although she had been in the US for almost two years, she was not an American citizen. In front of her, a Brazilian family stood with two little children, arguing vigorously. Tara had learned some Spanish words in the last couple of years, but the quicker Portuguese tongue sounded completely alien to her ears. She managed to form a sad smile, thinking things were so much different two years ago when she first arrived in America. Tara. She rocked back and forth, getting wetter and wetter. I was surprised at how calm her voice was as she came, her juices running down my fingers. I knelt behind her and tugged her panties to her knees, hiking her skirt up and spreading the lobes of her buttocks. Her pink rosebud sank in as she tensed, realizing that was the object of my attention, and I intended to play with it. Hers was a pretty asshole — slightly dark around the rim and bright pink where the wrinkles converged. I rubbed one. "Theytoo had their secrets, their passions, their dark desires." "Really?" she said, stifling a yawn behind her hand as she waited for himto turn the key. "Oh yes, as dark as yours I would guess," Goncourt smiled, finally unlockingthe door, and as he pushed it inwards he caught a first glint of interest inher steel grey eyes. "After you, Lady Huysmans," he gestured, with a courteouswave of the hand. She entered the room, her skirt brushing against him as she passed, leavinga faint hint of her.