Her other hand came down and landed on my thigh. “Oh! Sorry,” she said, then laughed. “That’s alright.” I ate the cake off my shirt. She let...her hand glide across my crotch. “Is that your dick?” She lightly grabbed me through my shorts and shook it a bit. “Well, someone’s not shy right now.” We locked eyes as she slid back into her spot on the couch. “You’re not even wearing boxers are you?” “Nope.” “Seems fair. After all, I’m not wearing anything but this robe.” With those words, my dick went. She told me what plane she would be on and soon and I was all prepared. She landed at Stanstead airport on the Friday night and I immediately thought I had made the wrong decision.First of all she did not look like in the photographs and although she was not ugly she hardly did herself any favours in her dress sense. Quite frankly she was dressed like a fifty year old widow. I was in my early forties at the time.As we drove up to Great Yarmouth I began to worry how I would be able to cope with. More

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