’ Ray laughed nervously, and he blushed as I told him how it happened. ‘We were just sitting on the couch in my apartment and there was nothing on...TV. And I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I kissed her. And before I knew it, she was in my bed with her hand in my pants, and I was tossing her panties on the floor. And you know what the weirdest thing was? Instead of enjoying the sex, I was worrying about what I needed to take with me on this trip.’ ‘Is she good-looking?’ Ray asked. I. In the village house I wear pajamas that I have bought for the nights, and I wear a flannel jacket from the late husband, when I get warm from the bed to smoke, naturally all accompanied by personal slippers. She confessed that her late husband had never come to certain heights, either because a traditional type or because I repeat, marriage kills sex. her husband seems to project into super 8 Swedish porn movies, but she was not taken at the time like today with me. He began to peek at the. Phir kahade hue aur bole…waise jhann tak muje yad ek til tumhari chut par bhi hai.main kaha nahi hai .unhone kaha dekhao. Phie unhoone mujhe table par lita diya aur meri tangne niche kar di jis se meri chut uper uth gayi..phir maeri panty bhi phad kar faink di….aur meri gori gori chut ko dekhenlage aur bole ashi maloom hai jiske choot main til hota hai.use har roz ise cuswana cahaiye aur iske andar land dalwana chaiye .phir peahle ki tarah meri chut par chupke se til bana diya… Aur bole maine. And the third, and worst possible mistake is getting those two occasions mixed up!’ I laughed at that as I danced around to face her, ‘What?’ ‘That’s right’, she continued, ‘every woman should be a lady in the parlor and a whore in the boudoir. The trouble begins when the parameters are crossed.’ She looked me square in the eye and asked, ‘What are you doing around a New Orleans wharf? You don’t seem like the type.’ As I relayed my sad story to her, she simply listened and nodded her head..