Perhaps I should've named the sub-folder something other than XXX? Like...Accounting Records? In this pic the slender man was down on his hands and kn...es on the tile. His shaved white ass faced the camera—or rather the mirror the iPad hiding his face collected the reverse image in. His ass was spread wide, revealing the base of the flesh-colored (African-American flesh, that is) butt-plug buried deep within. Below that his little clump of articulated and semi-distended shaved balls hung."Holy. See you there soon, xoxo."I loved the "xoxo". It was unexpected, but it certainly made my day.Later that evening, we met in our private chat. We spent three hours talking about likes, wants, spouses. When she said she missed sex, my heart leapt a little. I confessed I missed it as well. I told her how I missed the intimacy of sex, the kissing, the cuddling. I confessed how I was becoming attracted to her, even though we hadn't even met, how if she were with me then and there, I would be kissing. My husband had a pair of binoculars in his suitcase so I took them out to see if I could identify who was doing the spying. It was one of the young waiters in the restaurant. He must have noticed we picked the keys up from reception and thought he would find out if we were going to have sex in there instead of playing snooker. Well, my heart was thumping as I raced back to the snooker room. I decided not to tell my husband we had a “voyeur” watching us. As I entered the room I took a crafty. Darren wiped the beads of sweat off his brow with a smooth flick of his wrist, and said, chuckling heartily, ‘Of course they are! They don’t see opportunity in as many places as I do. Now come away from the window and help me clean, okay?’ I sighed. My legs ached from standing on them too long, my feet ached from too many times spent outside maintaining balance on snowy ground, treacherous at best for my Nike sneakers as I tried futilely to clean the sidewalk outside of snow every thirty.