What the hell? She doesn’t have any flight plans. But it is her name. Maybe just SPAM, or maybe someone is playing a joke. Oh well, too busy to mess...with it now. Ten minutes later, a ding. Opening up the email program, there’s a new one. This one’s from the Royal Sonesta, confirming her reservation. OK, what the hell is going on? Then, a light bulb goes off. It has to be him … doesn’t it? Friday evening, 7:55pm, the wheels hit the runway at Louis Armstrong Airport. She doesn’t know what she’s. He was so hard. I felt my tummy do a little jump as I unzipped his jeans. He had on a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts and it was not difficult to slip his rigid cock through the gap. I looked at my first bare dick. I’ll never forget, it was hot and throbbing. I dropped to my knees and looked up at him. Even as I rolled my tongue around the tip, a little clear fluid oozed out, which I allowed to trickle into my mouth. His ball sack was tight and hairy. He made a sharp gasp as I tickled them. More

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