Maddie held my cock in place as Rosy settled down on top of it. I could feel the all-too-familiar warmth envelope my cock, the walls of Rosy’s pussy... clamping down on me. Rosy rocked her hips back and forth as she rested her pelvis on mine. She leaned forward, her black hair cascading over her shoulders, her brown oval eyes staring intently down at me, her luscuous boobs bouncing in rhythmic response to her gyrations. “Dámelo! Dámelo! Dámelo!” Rosy extolled, pressing her hands on to my chest,. Gone, the next day. Caitlyn was the daughter of a friend of a friend’s brother. She was an art school graduate, still living at home, unable to find serious work. I’d never thought of going the art school route. I needed woodworking skills not artistic skills. I needed someone who could cut wood, plane it, use a router, set-up a jig and do lots and lots of painting. The artistic element was usually conceived by someone else. My shop requires technical skills mainly. Artistic skills are a. We pulled up outside the police station some twenty minutes later. Inside, we were met by WPC Moore who led us to a small interview room, and provided us with some tea and biscuits. We were sat down in front of two thick photo albums containing pictures of known sex offenders who fitted the descriptions we'd given and the drawings. Lena and I took a book each and a smiling WPC Gillian Moore left us to it. We thumbed through the pages looking at the faces staring back at us, it gave me and Lena. We are on an exploration mission for Preservation, a Georgia community." He put his hand out and one of the men took it and shook it vigorously.He said, "I'm glad to meet you. I'm Tom Albers and this is my brother, Vic. We live close to the Somerset airport and keep this plane running to give us a chance to fly. Our wives are at the airport and we need to go there soon to keep them from worrying."Vic said, "You are from Preservation. I haven't heard of any place named that. Where is it and what.