They never did, though.At least not back then, that is.I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d had girlfriends, and then a wife, and a second wife. But no... I realise that if I’d put my mind to it I could have fucked more pussy than is decent.By my early fifties I’d stopped even trying to catch the eye of pretty girls — or halfway decent older women for that matter. I can’t remember the actual year women stopped looking back when I gave them the eye but stopped they had.Then one day, when I was. You fucked me hard from behind, my heavy tits swinging, an occasional drop of milking leaking out.After that night, my production steadily increased. I loved the way my breasts looked, full with long, dark nipples. I wondered how big you would want them to grow, how much milk you would demand of me. You asked me not to wear a bra at home, because you loved to see the wet patches my milk left on my shirts. My unfettered tits jiggled obscenely behind the darker, wet spots. You wanted to take. I didn’t offer any guidance. She was very good at sensing what excited me and soon took me deeper and then began stroking her lips up and down. Her hands held my hip and thigh with only her mouth on my throbbing shaft.The anticipation I had felt all afternoon along with the afternoon sitting close to her had primed me to blow. All too soon I felt myself getting to the point of no return and whispered. “I am going to shoot.” Would she switch to her hand?She kept sucking away and I felt my. " You ready to proceed as planned, Guv?" asked a voice from the front ofthe cab."Yes please, L'Hirondelle." French," I said unnecessarily, "I love French cooking." I know, you told me so when we had our first chat." I chatter too much." No you don't, you were answering my questions, "You also like ElvisPressley, The Supremes, Roberta Flack, Matt Monro and Schumann,Beethoven, Sibelius, Purcell, Verdi and Puccini." You've forgotten Delibes, Delius, Elgar, Saint-Saens, Borodin,Khachaturian, The.