”“There is a sense of irony about it that I can appreciate,” George said. The Elves were attracted to ironic situations.“I don’t know about ...a sense of irony, but this is killing my sense of smell,” Sean said. This was not on his list of most favored ways to spend a Saturday afternoon. In fact, if he had such a list with this on it the list would have been ten miles long and it would have been the very last item on it.“I can imagine,” George said. Their magic was working overtime to keep the. Lovingly the distinctively flavored oil manipulated onto the mounds of flesh. The thin green film did not hide the colour of her pleasure. Red and green competed, blotches deepened as her moans told of increasing pleasure . “Hold them” I instructed. Dutifully she did so, watching my eager cock slither between. “Feel the correct pressure, feel me between them, welcome my cock” I thrust purposefully, pausing to pour more oil. “Smell it” I told her “This is the smell of the loss of virginity. Look. He's going to make sure I'm satisfied too. Cool. He must be the type of guy who gets a thrill knowing that he could make his partner get off just like himself. I think I'm going to like this guy. After a short drive the the Clock Tower Inn and a little chit chat along the way, I found out he was from Madison, wI just up the proverbial street. A small divisional convention was going on for some of the management and he decided to stay here instead of doing a two hour round trip.While walking. He slid down in the chair and, kneeling between his legs, I wrapped my tits around his cock. It felt a bit awkward, as I tit-wanked him, meeting his thrusts, but it was what he wanted and needed as he soon came all over my chest, great thick gouts of cum. I thought it was some kind of special effect in porn films, I didn't think guys could really spout like that, but he did. It was quite amazing.Afterwards, he slumped in the chair. I was worried that I had killed him, until this massive grin.