She sucked in a surprised gasp at the ferocity, and then yelped when I shoved her down on the bed. The skirt - what little there was of it - was only ...eld up by elastic. A quick yank pulled it down. She’d chosen a black, lacy thong to wear under it.By that point, my pants were uncomfortably tight. I tossed her skirt to the side, and heard the clatter of things falling off her vanity when it landed there. Then I went to work on the fastenings of my pants.“Hey, be careful,” she said as she sat. I take a deep breath, and then I hand him the napkin as the crowd behind me breaks out in enthusiastic applause. He looks at it, looks at me and takes a pen from his pocket. He writes something on the napkin and hands it back to me. Trembling, I take it and make a beeline back to the bar. Whether I'll be celebrating or drowning my sorrows, I will damn well need another drink.My shot at my fantasy man all comes down to this -- a message written on a cocktail napkin, "After the show, my place,. I'll write and call, and there's always e-mail." You take care," she said hugging him tightly, "good godfathers are hard to come by."He smiled sadly."And I expect you and Chris to let me know how you're doing." Deal," she replied, smiling to cover the tears.He reached over and kissed her on the forehead."Bye, Marsha." Dan..." He had turned to leave but turned back when she called his name. For one fraction of a second she came close to breaking down, telling him everything including the fact. Every time he came out and pushed back he hit the spot and it was like a never ending orgasm. My b*****r must have had a lot of practice because it was 8 minutes into ramming me and he still hadn’t cum yet. In and out, in and out, in and out. I loved having my b*****r fuck me. He kept going for about 20 minutes before he pulled out and shifted positions. He laid me down and lifted one of my legs and laid it on his shoulder and started to fuck me again in the hole that was a perfect fit for his.