Ismooth my floral print dress out on my lap and try to ignore thenauseating void between my legs as I cross them. Looking up into thereflection of the...coffee shop window. Mrs. Harris wasn't bad lookingfor her age. A little bit plump, but that was a expected for a womanwho had raised two kids, both of whom were now thankfully grown up.My long blonde hair was clipped up in a style I'd seen in a magazine.My face was lightly made-up to hide some of the wrinkles around myeyes and mouth. I shook my. ’We extricated ourselves from her clutches, checked in, went through security, boarded the plane – and my boner still hadn’t abated, not for a moment. I could still see Esme’s firm little breasts, the wisps of dark hair at her crotch, the casual way she’d said hello and winked at me.During the flight, Martin told me about a few girls from his art class that he’d been out with recently, and that didn’t help matters. In the past we’d always fantasised about girls, usually whilst masturbating in. More

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