Adjusting her position, she centered her core on the tip and leveraged it up. Holding his gaze in the dimness, she pushed down, taking him in with lit...le stutter strokes. She began a slow tempo, quickened it, and then slowed it again. She made long strokes. Her firm breasts, so little sag, vibrated and rippled. Her shoulder length hair swayed. Her nipples danced to the beat of the music played by their interconnected groins. Her tube snugly sheathed his cock. She knew that was her best feature. She stepped down, capeless, holding her blue dress together between her impressive hillocks, her posture militantly rigid, her fine face a mask of distressed disgust, one hank of dark hair dangling before her lovely nose. She tossed it back and took a deep breath."Sir," she spat at the man I held at the neck, letting his toes barely touch the road, "I mistook you for a gentleman." Then she looked at me tightlipped and said, "Let go of him."I did and stepped back. She hit him in the face. She. More

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