Two words that will have me elevate your hotel from a four to a five-star review on Trip Advisor: wet room. But seeing as I like wet rooms because I sometimes enjoy watersports, you might not actually want me to stay in your hotel, to be honest. Done things on the bed, in the lounge, in the huge bath. Done casual, X-rated cuddles on the sofa as I stroked his growing erection through his trousers and he slipped one hand down my bra to pinch one of my nipples tightly.
It was the first time I had been to Fred's house and it was difficult not to marvel at the old Ford and ancient Chevrolet parked outside his two car garage. They were spotless and waxed to high shines. His huge living room was lined with antique musical instruments, and in the center of the outer wall a magnificent electronic organ commanded the area. Fine art paintings, originals, decorated the walls.
Can you get undressed slower, so I can enjoy it? He tears off his clothes without protest and leaps into the shower. He lies down on the shower floor and I step in and position myself above him. I produce a steady stream of pee that continues for at least ten seconds I really had to go , and also consists of no less then two farts that accidentally eek out. It was — it was — such a thick stream.
My little sister is sick. Some people would say I was even sicker, because I take advantage of her. No, I mean physically sick, not mentally.