"Wait." As I turned, Inga threw herself at me. I kept my hands at my sides, although my instinct was to grab on. Her hands circled my neck and she kis...ed me. Not a friendly kiss, but a firm, passionate, demanding kiss. I started getting aroused and stood taller, to break her hold. She was still naked when I marched out my front door and across the street.A stack of discarded household items decorated the curb. That made sense. With Zenellis Enterprises taken over, Harry and hundreds of others. When her weight came off my penis, it immediately sprang to attention. I moved her slightly forward as the head of my penis glided down between her labia and stopped at her dilated vagina. I could feel her tension as she realized that something much larger than my finger was now about to penetrate her, but she did not pull away. I suggested that she control the penetration rather than me and took my hands off her hips. I could see her expression of deep concentration as she slowly lowered. Due to your age, you thought you had me all figured out. You were, after all, eighteen years older than me. You thought your experience meant that you knew women like me, that we were all the same. And again, thinking back, I still laugh. You talked to me as if I were innocent, inexperienced and mild-mannered. You let the pearls and soft spoken voice fool you. You taught me a lot about the world, about men. Every conversation opened my eyes a little more. I flirted with you, in my own unique. Furthermore, with their delivery of the package to its rightful owner, the firm's obligation to any involved party was now ended.The letter raised far more questions than it answered. Who wrote the diary and when? Who donated it to the museum and how were they related to me? What museum would not want an original document from probably the 19th century, and how could a diary possibly be 'inappropriate for either display or study'?The best place to start answering these questions it seemed was.
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