“Satisfied?” he asked confidently.“Not even close,” she growled back. She put her feet on either side of his legs and slid down off the desk o...to his awaiting lap. Reaching between her legs, she un-did he pants as she cleaned her juices from his beard. She pulled out his erection, holding his girth firmly in her hand. With her other hand, she pulled her panties aside allowing her to rub the tip into her moisture, coating the head of his penis in her juices. A moan rumbled in her throat as she. I agreed, and he picked me up from the decided spot.As we got closer to the city limit, I decided to get started and put my hand in his pants. He liked the idea. I could sense him getting harder by seconds as I took his fleshy meat out and started stroking slowly. After driving a few kilometers on the highway, we got off on the service road.A little after the petrol pump, he turned into a small compound-like area that looked like a truck stop. It seemed pretty much deserted, as the truckers. It was the poncho which gave him a non femme look. Under the sweater he wore a long sleeve narrow stripe, black and white nautical vibe cotton shirt. It featured a low front showing the smooth soft skin of his chest above his breasts. On his feet he wore a pair of over the black ankle high Swede boots with a zipper in the back with the bottom of the leggings tucked in. The ankle boots added a Parisian chic to his ensemble. He was obsessed with everything French since his most recent trip to. When Leiden, where Martin and I grew up, was ‘it’, he took me to see it. Hundreds of children and their parents lined up along the canals of Leiden to see the boat come in. My parents were at work, but Martin and I were inseparable then (I was seven), so even though it rained for most of the day, he picked me up and put me on his shoulders. I recall singing my tiny little lungs out, even though the boat was nowhere in sight. When it finally came (the fuckers got lost again) and Sint Nicolaas.
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