“Nice cunt Betty.” He grinned… He started with long slow strokes that increased steadily until his pubic bone slapped against hers. His...face was red and covered with sweat. Suddenly his face was twisted in anguish with a far away look in his eyes. He mumbled incoherent things about a fuck pig. “I’m so sorry Mommy.” He mumbled. Joe stopped suddenly and gripped the tube on the underside of his cock holding his cum in check. “I’m going to cum in your ass.” He announced. Then he promptly. Now, he looked somewhat less annoyed, and Wendy felt she detected a distinct twinkle in his eyes.Wendy looked again at his tattoo. It fascinated her. Without giving it any conscious thought, she placed the fingers of her right hand onto the snake's tail and she slowly traced its form from the foreman's shoulder over his smooth chest and down his taut stomach. The foreman made no effort to stop her, merely quietly muttering to himself: "Fucking hell," in a harsh London accent.Her hand reached. " He answered, looking very nervous and somewhat taken aback."Well, Mr Martin Shaw, this young lady is Miss Anita Thomas. There! Now you've been introduced, so you can get on and ask her to go out with you, and after she has said yes, you can leave her alone to get on with her job." Then in a much softer voice. "Oh by the way, she's off shift at seven, perhaps you can meet her and go for a drink or something.With that, she stormed off again. Martin turned back to me his face had turned beetroot. A girl can tell these things even from behind.He looked even lonelier in the Orb and Sceptre. We'd just settled at a table, Matt with his real ale, and me with what we could only call 'almost real' wine, and there he was, in a corner, still looking distinguished with his full head of hair and neat, goatee beard. One thing about him, he knew how to keep that hair clean and white.I didn't feel we knew him well enough yet to invite him over. Matt hadn't spotted him."Don't look now," I said to.