You keep the same pace, making my orgasm feel as though it’ll never end. Your cock is soaked with my juices, covering your cock. My juices drip down...your balls, when you know my orgasm has slowed you change pace. You begin to fuck me faster again, deeper with each thrust. You lean down into me, I moan softly in your ear but decide to suckle your earlobe into my mouth. It causes you to growl out, I purr as you do, knowing how much it turns you on. You don’t pull away, wanting it, needing it as. We're stillholding on to each other, our bodies pressed together, his hands on myass."I know..." I start to say. I know about Aim?e, I want to finish. Iknow she's your girlfriend, I want to say."Come with me," he smiles, releasing my ass and taking my hand. Heleads me back into the studio, holding my hand all the way. It'sempty, as promised. No bags. No bored actors. No asshole directors.Just some chairs, a table and a bed.Scott moves around behind me, kissing my neck. I start to make. Using a long jacket rather than a mac meant I didn’t feel too out of place when I went to the go-go pubs. Back in the 70s that was more like normal attire in pubs. It was a few years later before I felt comfortable looking like a perv, and actually really enjoyed it. I didn’t go into a go-go pub and wank under my jacket - apart from it being too risky, it was also unnecessary. Seeing a girlie-goddess go-go dance in Her miniskirt or bikini was more than enough, more than enough to make me spunk. It would take Oscar at least four minutes to reach the dorm, probably more like six, and that was all the time that Harry had. He could not afford to take any longer. What was there to be gained from such risky behaviour? Nothing. Nothing but the sheer thrill of knowing you might, at any moment, be caught with your pants down, literally. Nothing but the smug satisfaction of keeping this dirty, little secret all to yourself. If he got caught, though, he would never be allowed to forget it. The.