You hear about old guys like me dying on the job. My heart was pumping like I was running for my life. I became alarmed at my body's reaction, had to ...ake deep breaths.She slowly wanked me while I savoured the depths of her luscious pussy, the viscous abundance of her. And even though she was skilled, her hand was not enough to undo the dulling age brings."I know what you’d like," she said.Wriggling free of my fingers, she manoeuvred herself and went down on me and gave me a blow-job like none. She says hello and usually starts some small talk. She pulls off her top to reveal her breasts, then her shorts or skirt and panties. She sits on the bed and touches me in a caressing way. She might come over and kiss me on the lips, or just stroke my pants at the front. Depending on which one of the girls it is, she might talk dirty or she might act innocent. Sooner or later she gets my clothes off and takes me in her hand. Once I'm good and hard she washes me with the special tissue, dries me. “Don’t try to move,” he said. “You’ve broken your leg, and you have several other abrasions. I’ve splinted it, but just lie there for now.”“Vice?” she asked, hazily. “Why am I naked?”“I had to remove your clothes to treat your injuries,” he said. It was a half-truth. Anyway, she certainly looked better naked. It was common knowledge that for women to advance in the Tradeways Guild they needed both natural good looks, and a willingness to get fake tits - and Laurel’s large plastic udders were. You immediately comply, standing with your skirt still high around your waist, exposed, dripping cunt proudly glistening in the light of the film. You know exactly what to do. Without any further instructions you move in front of me, spreading your legs wide and slowly lower yourself down onto my hard cock. We both stifle our moans as your tight pussy envelopes me. You let your weight drive my shaft deep inside you as I reach my hand around you, finding your clit with my fingers. Slowly, you.