She stared unfocused at nothing in particular. Had it happened? Was it really just a dream? It couldn’t have been. She made her way to the sofa wher... he had found her. There were no tissues. No mess. The pillow she’d soaked through with tears was were it always was. Tucked neatly against the armrest. Her head turned to inspect the living room. There was nothing to give him away. Her panties. A smile crept over her. She was still wearing them through her pajama bottoms. It was all she’d woken. I didn't really make all those women cum that many times... they did it themselves in their minds and then the bodies just acted out their roles perfectly. Contessa was no different in that respect.Since we had already done a number of scenarios with Contessa, I decided we would try a working man's approach. One of my newest layouts was a construction site, from all appearances, in a metropolitan setting. I had a small unfinished building cutout and what looked like a full range of power tools,. ‘That’s why I chose his hotel.’ He sat down on the bed, just to the side of the bench and sat there, hands folded, almost primly, in his lap. There was a silence between them for nearly a full minute as he looked at her expectantly, and then, understanding how important this art of the proceeding was to him, she began to undress. She was simply, almost conservatively attired in a light cotton blouse and a knee length skirt with an uncomplicated floral pattern. She began with the top button of. “You and…?”“Stu. You saw him this morning. By the way, sorry about that. We didn’t know anybody was here besides the blond bitch.”Rifle slowly nodded his head. “And you and Stu are…?” He wiggled his hand, not sure what he was asking.“Nooo,” Rich drew out. “Well, sort of, but not really. I mean there’s nothing permanent or serious. In other words, I’m available.”Rifle nodded again and took another swig of his beer. He lowered his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.“Let me ask,”.
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