‘Don’t speak, feel.’ Her mouth closed on mine and her hips began to move at a slow pace, gently entering me deeper and deeper before withdrawing...and then re-entering, a movement she repeated as she kissed me, her tongue mirroring the actions of her girl cock. I lifted my legs around her and her pace increased relentlessly. My back arched under her and she groaned into me. My arms went around her and we started to rock together, her nipples hard through the fabric of her dress. I felt myself. Britney was busy looking in the dressing room mirror and fixing her hair when she glanced up and saw the man walk in through the reflection in the glass. Carrying a large manila envelope, he was about 6'5 and as leanly built as any man she had seen. His hair was jet black and concealed mostly underneath a brownish-tan fedora cap. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a gray shirt and a pair of tattered and dirty looking blue jeans that stopped where his heavy work boots began. Over his. More

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