She said why not and we got in the room. As we got in she tried looking for the switch to turn the lights on. Unfortunately, when she switched it on n... lights were popping up. She told me that the lights may be out and that it needs to be fixed. As she told me to come and look at the other antiques, I grabbed her arm close to me and planted a huge kiss on her lips. She retreated back telling me this is not the right place to do this right now. I was persistent. Didn’t even listen to one bit and. The risks were high but the profits from a successful shipment more than justified any risk. Then there was by sea. Much larger quantities could be moved by sea. Some of it was concealed in legitimate cargoes and cleared through customs, usually with some inside assistance, or dropped off the coast and picked up later by fishing boats or private yachts. The money for these operations came from a variety of sources, some ‘legitimate’ some not. Here again there were risks, if the right palms. My hard teenage penis was on it’s desperate mission to find the bottom. As I stroked in and out of her the headboard played tap music on her bedroom wall accompanied by the scratchy sound of the bottom bed boards. Her moans of pleasure were more clear now, her legs wrapped around my waist with her feet and toes trying to dig into my butt cheeks. I moved my face up to kiss her so she could also smell and taste her own pussy. I was approaching my climax as I stoked ever faster, and soon I was. He was rubbing it now. But I leaned down, gave him a peck on the cheek, and pushed him towards the stairs. He reluctantly walked away looking at me with puppy eyes. "You promise, Mrs. Ferguson? Damn, I need to get off. Sorry, but I do." "Just be here, again, and I'll give you something you'll remember a long time. Go on and get to sleep now." As he climbed the stairs I gathered my things. I was going to have to take a shower to wash off the sex odors, but that could wait for the morning. I was.