Most people call me Bobby.’ ‘Can I come in? We need to talk for a few moments.’ He wasn’t alone. Behind him was a small, creepy, little Goth g...rl. She wasn’t even five feet tall and looked sickly. I stepped aside and they both entered. He sat on the sofa and she stood beside him and slightly behind. ‘You know who I am, don’t you Bobby?’ ‘Yeah. You are the guy that I drove to the hospital a few months back.’ ‘My name is Maurice. Maurice Franklin.’ ‘What can I do for you Mister Franklin?’ ‘I. The party required “festive” attire, but everyone was required to wear a mask. He had already gotten us some beautiful masks, and I knew exactly which dress I was going to wear – a royal blue strapless with a flirty skirt. My night was set. We donned our masks and walked through the throng of revellers, into the lobby of an elegant hotel, and were ushered into the ballroom. There must have been at least two hundred people, and I just had to stop and stare at the beauty of the throng before I. His wife is unhappy, that he knows, but that doesn't mean she has to make a scene in front of all these people. “Can we discuss this at home?” he asks her quietly, trying to end this conversation for now. All he wants is decent meal but that is obviously out of the question. “This is just not the place to have this conversation.” “Whatever,” she gets up from the table and begins to leave the restaurant. “If I make it home. We will talk.” Laurel grabs her purse from beside the table and quickly. The curves of her hips, her navel, her ribs…. I could feel it all! I could also feel my cock as it slid down between the two solid round cheeks of her ass. The silky light weight colorful nylon shorts she wore only served to magnify the pleasure as I felt her body press back into mine. “Now, slowly Daddy. Slowly lift my shirt higher and run your hands over my tits. Mom has always said you are a breast man. Do you like mine? Feel them and whisper in my ear what you think.” I closed my eyes.
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