He wondered if she had a boyfriend, a lover. He wondered if she liked chicken, or if she ate junk food. He wanted to feel her, to understand her.But t...he apartment was empty, cold. Any personal belongings of interest had been taken into evidence. The rooms were coated with finger print dust, covered in regular dust. The air was stale, ripe with the smell of rotting food and spoiled milk. Even opening a window hadn't done anything but blow the smell around. So after an hour, he got up and left.He. She meets him and gets fucked in secret place in garden but he is not able to fuck her for long time and cums very quickly, she is left unsatisfied, so she has to come and do something. He asked- what do you do to cum from there?So she again blushed and turned her face. He said - I know, what do you do!She said- how do you know that master?Then he told her that when she had put his finger in the pussy, he was awake and saw her amazing finger fucking herself.she became very sad. ’ A courteous fellow will accept that and probably come back and ask you another time later. ‘Of course, his invitation may be exciting and fun, and you decide to accept.’ All well and good, but I felt like I was describing a formal courtship on a 19th Century plantation in the southern states. Hardly very useful or applicable as a norm for the rough-and-tumble, catch-as-catch-can social scene in today’s American west. To judge from the magazine stands – yes, a very superficial data source,. “You start moaning and stroking your cock faster.” She reached down and deliberately ran her hand over the bulge in his pants, his groan was unmistakable.“Pull it out, Ron. Pull your dick out and play with it. Let me watch you play with your cock again.” She saw the reluctance in his posture, so she reached down, popped open the button, and unzipped his fly. He’d gone ‘commando’ and she gazed at the stiffness of his cock as it poked up from the flame red pubic hair that matched her own. .