’ Samantha sat there looking at him. She really did not have any plans and suddenly the thought of going back to her empty hotel room seemed depress...ng. In fact, it seemed more than depressing really. She was in Paris after all and here was a guy, with no obvious attachments, offering to take her to dinner and show her things that a tourist might not see. That he was also good looking and seemed to have money did not hurt either. It only took her a moment to make up her mind, her nipples. At Anna’s party things had gone too far. We were kissing, there on the tousled bedsheets, her athletic little frame splayed on top of me, and then the lights had come on, a million watts of over-exposure, a half dozen shocked faces at the doorway. I’d frozen, mortified. She’d kissed me again. ‘What the fuck?’ A girl’s voice from the back of the growing crowd. That had snapped me out of it. ‘Get off of me,’ I’d demanded, shoving her harder than I’d meant to. Drunk-strength. She’d looked so. I started wishing I could cum, as she slammed her hips down hard, grabbed her breasts, opened her mouth in a soundless "O." and then fell forward onto me in mid-spasm. I stroked her sweaty back and asscheeks until her eyes opened. "You're still hard," she said in some surprise. I shrugged, not a terribly effective gesture when you're flat on your back beneath a naked woman. She rolled her hips from side to side, then lay her head down on my chest while still clasping me inside her. "I like. At nearly 200 miles an hour Nathan was white knuckling his new car. He was intensely focused on driving despite Rebecca's promos that the car would not let anything go wrong. The amazing speed made short work of the trip. Soon they were parking the lambo in a dirt driveway of a seemingly abandoned diner/gas station combo. An old woman opened the screen door to usher then in, please sit down, I'll be with you shortly. Nathan and Rebecca sat down in the diner and the white haired, wrinkly last.
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