"Or maybe I should say I've got his cock wrapped with my pussy." Just what is so special about this guy?" He's got money honey and he is going to make...a lot more now that he has been promoted and I can see a couple of more promotions in his future. I'm going to be on easy street Pat. I'll be living the life I deserve." But do you love him?" Love smove; all that matters is that I like him enough to put up with him. He's not half bad in bed, but it doesn't matter. If I'm in the mood for a real. She remembered the strange man on the road with his rough exterior but gentle touch when it came to satisfying her itch between her legs for human contact. Honey hoped he had gotten his job at the "Gardens" and would avoid trouble for having met her quite by accident. She sat down at a small circular table and sipped the fake coffee made with some sort of bean that was definitely not coffee. Now that she was relaxed, she looked around the small shop and was shocked to see that "Marcel" was. But he wasn’t trying to force his way between her thighs, he was just stroking, stroking her thighs with oily fingertips, creeping into her curls, running his fingers down the join of her legs to her pubis and, yes, running an oily finger down her crack. She was leaking now, she knew her wetness was seeping onto her thighs. It was no use, standing there before him, standing between his knees, his hands on her, she was going to have to open her legs, stand legs apart as his fingers made their. Naked and uncovered, he sees her walk slowly across the hall. He can hardly contain himself. He walks to the living room, and turns on the TV. He tries to forget his excitement. After about thirty minutes she emerges, wrapped in a towel, and asks how he's doing. Camden, knowing that the towel is all that separates his eyes from seeing her naked smooth skin in full view this time, he says he's doing ok and she returns to her room. She returns a few minutes later, wearing a light blouse that.