I tried to look interested, but word games weren't my topic for the day. I leaned forward."So you phoned Susan Larsen?" Yes. Around two. Maybe two-thi...ty. I got out of my one o'clock around ten to and went to get my mail. The secretaries were all agog about the murder, though it turned out that there was nothing on the radio yet. But one of the girls knows a security guard and he came right over to tell her all about it." She looked at me shrewdly. "Susan's the obvious suspect, isn't she. The. "Why don't you try this on straight away?" sheasked. "Then you'll start to get used to it. Come on, get those trousersoff!" Blushing a little, I removed my trousers and fastened the kiltaround my waist. It really felt like a skirt and I couldn't help butthink of the girl in the train. As I did not yet have a sporran, myerection was evident. I saw that she noticed and stammered anexplanation, "It feels like I'm wearing a skirt." "Nonsense," shereplied. "The kilt is a very manly garment."She. The back of my tongue is playing with his head and the skin is sliding up and down and up and down. He pulls out his cock just in time, my finger inside him stroking him firmly but gently and he shoots his load all over me. I'm trying to suck it all back in, but it's going everywhere. It's on my tits and running down the lace of my bra and onto my stomach. Now it's my turn. He lays me back, covering my cum drenched mouth with his. His fingers lightly brush my aching nipples and I arch my back. We had kissed on a few drunken college nights but that was it. Still, I should be known better than to get involved with a woman who was taken.However, lately, I had heard through the grapevine that she was single so I felt a sense of excitement.Kirsten was a bonnie blonde with all the curves. She wasn’t a beauty but had undeniable sex appeal. We visited a few old haunts and reminisced about old times. It felt good. And like old times we ended up grinding on the dancefloor with our lips locked.
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