Maybe about 5 feet 10 and I would guess about 180. Dark skin. Either Hispanic or Middle Eastern. Nice build. Not a spend every day in the gym body. Mo...re of a naturally built from the working body. He had a light covering of hair on his chest, arms, and legs.I assumed he would pull his shorts back up and be on his way. Instead, he started stroking his uncut cock. His cock grew ever so slowly. Every couple of strokes he would spit onto his cock and his cock would slide easily across his hands.. Some would probably call three or four glasses a night excessive and I guess it was, but it was the sixties and everyone seemed to do more than their share of imbibing. That's not an excuse, just a rationalization.There were also the nights when my mother exceeded her usual alcohol intake and three or four glasses of wine became about five. On these nights, Mother didn't get nasty or bitter. She got cuddly and she'd have me nuzzle up against her. I was, to be sure, living with a perpetual. As if that wasn’t enough, Ryan had showered and dressed in a white tux dinner jacket. His smile was huge as he saw the reaction he was hoping to elicit. He held out a seat for Jenny. ‘I think I’m underdressed.’ ‘You are divine. The steam washed off all the make-up, the menthol opened your pores, so all the redness is gone from your eyes. You are an absolute Goddess. Now, dig in!’ ‘Who are you? You’re like the Batman of romance.’ Ryan laughed hard at that remark. ‘Let’s just say that I learned. As she peaked I increased my thrusts. I needed release now. Her legs dropped back on the bed. As my orgasm hit I pulled my tool out of her hot cunt. Gobs of white spunk jetted out of me, splattered over her belly. Peter brought us a lovely cold refreshing drink. We lay together on the bed. All three of us needed to relax, to cool down, and recover. Conversation was quiet, desultory. After a while we dozed. The rocking of the waterbed woke me. As my eyes opened I saw Peter was lying on his back.