He felt his cock stirring.He began to read aloud. To his delighted surprise she did exactly as the story told. She crossed her legs, right knee over l...ft and almost imperceptibly began tensing and relaxing her thighs. Her hips squirmed slightly. He could see the back of her right thigh to the point where it met the sofa's cushion. More to the point he could see that she wore stockings, the dark top contrasting with white flesh. Now his cock was more than stirring.Suzanne's eyes were closed as. When I examined her, I marveled at how beautiful she was. She said something, indistinguishable, in her sleep, and I lifted her legs apart, positioning myself between them. Still she did not wake. Only when I entered her did she cry out. I entered her fully and completely, stopping only when I touched the very bottom. On the third stroke, I stopped, and holding her face in my hands. "You didn't fuck him, did you?"Her eyes glittered. I think I may have been hurting her."No, Michael," she said.. He cringed andheld his head in his free hand. What had he done? Not only had he letwhoever was out there know he was inside the apartment but he hadanswered in a voice that was definitely a mans voice."Mr Simons!?! Is that you? This is the NYPD!" Fuck," Sam whispered to himself. The police? Why were the police here?He frantically wracked his brains to think of anything it could be. Hekept a little weed in the drawer in his wardrobe. He had a small unpaidparking fine. A stupid, irrational part. Walking around the outside of the windmill, the Gingerbread Man found the front door already opened for him, and he was pulled inside by a little fat fist.“Oh, Gingerbread Man! I am so happy to see you!” the dumpy little windmill wench told him. “ My boyfriend broke up with me, and I haven’t had sex for two whole months. How awful it is. I don’t suppose… I mean… Would there be any chance… What with you being a Gingerbread Man and all… Could you possibly… Y’know…” The dumpy little windmill.