As I controlled everything, started a furious sway in and out, in the new missionary position, and judging from the liquids squirting out of the vagin...a, she was aroused, meaning she had liked this. I was happy at seeing my rod shine each time it slid out. I was now determined to try an additional sex position, so she complained saying: “What are you doing, please, stop!! I said: “So you like woman on top, don’t you, Matilde?” I made her sit on top, facing away from me, and leaned her. Hesitatingly an elder lady in waiting at the doorstep asked him politely if she could ask him maybe a queer question.She is of the generation, some year in the 70ies which doesn't dare to speak unasked for at an unknown gentleman.Writing this, is the third time I cry in ten minutes. Firstly the music. Secondly as result at a flash of million memories.Thirdly from this romantic short erotic encounter, like from a famous novel which won world wide amazing attention."Sir, You do look like Frits. If I thought I could have gotten away with being a stripper I probably would have become one. My parents would have killed me but I think I would have enjoyed the work. One fateful night I was assigned to the last shift and had to close with Rick and an Assistant Manager. His name was Dave and he was basically chasing skirt all the time. All he cared about was his social life. Sure enough on that Saturday night he got a call on his cell and took off on us. He told me to text him when we were. OH My FUCKING GOD!!!! Was this really happening to me?? My pretty Ronnie with his face and hands totally occupied for my pleasure alone. Just thinking that urged me towards a warm, powerful feeling that started to build inside me.. down deep — deeper than Ronnie could reach, but feeding from Ronnie’s every movement…Harder and Harder he manipulated my clitoris… Faster and Faster his tongue darted inside me, and soon, it, too was replaced by the roughened fingers of his other hand. I could.