I was turning to my street when I heard footsteps approaching and I turned my head and saw Trent just coming back from his late afternoon runs. He is ...topless and in his jeans and boots and some sort of hoody wrapped around his waist. This is the 1st time I saw him w/o his shirt on and his glistening body from sweat and his broad shoulders, buffy chest, and that forming abs kinda gotten me off my trift for a sec. He approaches me and slowed down.He greeted me and I greeted him back. But there. I quickly pulled my cock back away from her. "No, we can't go that far, we've gone too far already" She pulled on my cock again and said please softly into my mouth, and started to stroke up and down on my cock. "just make me come with your hands, baby, make me feel good, just keep using your hands" She reached down with one hand and began to rub my balls as she stroked my cock. I started too thrust, fucking her sweet little hands and looking into her eyes. It did not take long, a few. ” ye kaun se station par rukegi” I asked, “2 gahnte tak koi station nahi hai ussese pahele nahin rukegi”, i sitting so closed to him that my side and his side parts are almost permanently joined and even after little shifting here,my hand may rest on his lap for a while and similarly his hand also come to my lap or on my shoulder for a while. I was wearing a salwar suit,as I moves my body or shift my position my midriff gets exposed for a while. The old man was wearing a dhoti kurta. I noticed. I looked again at the mother’s letter. Hotel Nueva York. That explained it. Not the fanciest place in town, despite its name, but an OK mid-range hotel. Good tourist trade, from what the manager, himself a recent Cornell School of Hotel Administration graduate, had told me when I’d chatted with him at one of our annual travel fairs.Monsieur M owned this hotel, among others.That explained the referral from the ambassador, but not why. Tootsie had said it was urgent. Ambassador or not, it was.