But there are some of us who call ourselves by another name. We are drawn to a special class of classy ladies, to those mature beauties who appreciate...a man who appreciates a vintage affair. We call ourselves the silver surfers. And this is one of our stories.Jonathan R., AtlantaLet's get the stereotypes out of the way first, shall we? I am a male flight attendant. I like to cook. I like show tunes. But I am not gay, OK?I like show tunes because I love the brassy, sassy women who sing them. I'm. He starts thrusting in roughly, slamming into her, as she whimpers and throws her head back, moaning as he occasionally hits some sweet spot, or goes deeper than usual. Putting a hand on each breast, he props himself up, and hammers away at her tight fuck hole, her kegel muscles gripping his thick, hard cock like a vice. He thrusts forcefully, twisting and pinching her nipples as he starts to feel his orgasm coming. He groans and pulls out, and then forcefully plunges his dick back inside,. We'll drive back the long way round! You can have her first, Harry, and you won't need to hurry - we'll both of us have plenty of quality time with her!" OK Teresa. Don't let her go, now! I love blondes and I'm feeling really horny tonight!"The other woman then hastened to go to the aid of the unfortunate boy and Teresa continued to hold Veronica in what, were I disposed to employ that literary short-cut called cliché, I would call a vice-like grip. Veronica had partly recovered from the blow. "Fuck," he whispered.Tom's eyes darted at the exit of the bathroom. The hurtful words fell from his lips before he could stop them. "Get the bloody fuck away from me, Sykes."As bad as Tom's words hurt, Oli didn't move. He just stared at his little brother, his eyes gliding over him like ice on a hot surface. "No..." Oli stepped forward again, then stepped back, shutting the door. He blocked it with his body and smirked. "What’s wrong, baby brother?" Oliver felt his stomach flip and felt his.