The man strode behind the hanging girl. He grasped her hips with one hand and guided his cock to her rosebud with the other. Easing in, he changed his...expression from one of smug anticipation to ecstasy. Fatima threw back her head, displaying alternating looks of pain, relief, and—when he began moving in and out, a slow, measured action—excitement. Her cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the hair on his chest and back turned dark with moisture.When he stepped up the pace of his. " She took his napkin and wrote down her phone number and handed it back to him. "Call me tomorrow, after ten." Then she smiled and simply walked away into the crowd.It was late Sunday evening and Matt was holed up in his room sipping on a cold beer and thinking about Molly Anderson. Besides being strikingly beautiful she was warm and personable and damn nice to look at even without any makeup or clothing to speak of. God what would she look like if she was made up and dressed in decent. More

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