The server and busboy looked on, fascinated."Is she doing..." the Algerian busboy began."Yes, she is." The brunette server replied. "Now, come with me..." she growled and yanking him by the arm pulled him along until they reached a seldom used storeroom.Barb turned to look at the TV behind her, and accidentally on purpose, knocked her purse onto the floor. She leaned over to pick it back up, and disappeared, joining Gretchen on the carpeted floor of the restaurant.Paul heard giggling from under. He gestured me nearer and spoke gently that he'd like to join me in my cubicle which I very quickly said yes. When he joined me, he was exactly what I love, a very mature gent, I'd say about 68 years old or so with lovely thinning white hair to my mid 30's. He started fondling me through my french knickers, likewise I unzipped him and started stroking his now slowly hardening cock, which again is what I love, quit short in length but quite thick. I quickly got on my knees and fed it into my. I was slurring before we entered the main race area and John was much the same.By the time we left the course, we were a few hundred pounds better off and very jovial. The ride back was something of a blur but, as I had an empty house and John lived some distance away, we’d arranged for him to stay overnight.We were dropped off a little after midnight and we stayed up drinking and chatting. John and his wife were separated and he’d started to see a thirty-something. He said, "the sex is. ‘Fine by me. I don’t have to be up early.’ Ellen nodded. ‘Great, we can talk again for a while.’ She got up and went back to the piano, playing a few trills, waiting for the drummer and guitarist. She played a couple of numbers and then she stood, taking the microphone from its stand. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said. ‘When I first started in this business, I was part of a duo, but my partner quit after a few months because her voice couldn’t take the strain of performing night after night.’.