.he knew my pleasure hot spots ...well basically as well as I knew them myself...a girl can ask no more...I needed no more...I was overtaken by pussy ...appiness...consumed in my own seeping moisture mixed with his added tongue wetness. I was addicted to my clits imploring need for attention and it was getting it share. Then more than its fair share. Oh fuck it was all me... my clit...my clit...my beautiful clit...imploding and exploding as the knowledgeable prick was grabbing, squeezing,. He starts interrogating me, or at least that is what it feels like. I answer his questions and then politely beg him to be quiet, as I just want to enjoy this moment while the plane is taking off. Suddenly doubts irrationally flood my thoughts. I am hoping that Charles is not a serial killer, or rapist, or both. Too late, I’m off to the U.S. Location: Somewhere over the Atlantic OceanAs the plane continues west, I've been thinking about everything I am going to do to him and him to me. The. More

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