This was fucking like he’d never imagined, and whatever Mr. Armisen was working with was being thrust hard enough to reverberate down the hall. He f...llowed the sound toward the suite, where it only grew louder. And louder.He heard the bed first--the squeak of the springs creaking over and over, the bang of the headboard thundering like a heartbeat. And then he heard her--crying out like he’d only heard people cry out in pain.“Ungh! Ungh! Give it to me! Daddy!”She was wailing, hysterical.. As the meal was finishing on the stove, we both went to clean up and change. Now I wanted to make the best impression. Undergarments, the right push up, the right lace shorts under shorts, do the face, do the hair. D pretty much did the guys version. So my first Italian word was Cioppino. Soon to be followed by passare la notte, fanculo and amore. No longer dressed in grunge, my chef looked fabulous. Now I am thinking that he is the one I will give myself to. The more I thought about it, the. I moved towards him and leaned against him, feeling his big arms embrace me. I ran my hands under his shirt and felt his big, manly belly and ran my fingers through his chest hair. He pulled off his shirt and I pulled on his waist band. He undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. I could feel the heat of his manhood against me. The soft skin of his thick shaft and pubic hair. “Where’s your bedroom” I asked, embarrassed by my blatant lust. I dreamed about being in his bed. I stood before. I started moving my head up and down, but that wasnt good enough, so he started moving his hips. He was fucking my face hard, when finally he froze up and started cumming. Thank god it was over. I went to my room and cried. Then next day he told me he loved me and thats why he chose me to do that with. I didnt feel the same way about him any more thought. He started having me come into his room daily and he would eat me out. I have to admit, after a while it started feeling good, but I never.