But of course, I wasn’t interested in her in a social worker kind of way – not completely. I found her attractive. In fact, we found each other ir...esistible, which was why we had taken such chances flirting in their apartment and then in public, at the fort.Today we just had to hope and pray that no one we knew would see us, because although we were as far away as we could get without leaving the island, it was a small place.The restaurant we chose was small, dark and old-fashioned: very. Possessed by the sight of her beneath me, I tore her shirt the rest of the way from her shoulders hastily and took her breasts in my hands. I kissed her and felt her wriggling under my weight. She reached down and pushed her pants down around her ankles before reaching for my own pants.She had them off just as fast and let me grind my hard cock against her panties."You want to fuck me, Daddy?" she said.I pumped across her panties harder."Yes, baby," I said, quietly into her ear.I reached down. I'm not exactly sure why, but I thought a nooner would perk him up. Well I now know why we have been a little lacking at home. He is getting his quota at work.Let me explain a few things. First we met in our senior year at college, me working for a degree in public education, I wanted to be a teacher, a builder, and developer of young minds, like mine was developed and nurtured by several of my teachers.Ron was a business major, with hopes of becoming a captain of industry. We both achieved our. Dress for the job you want, not the job you have. It was one of those common sense sayings most successful people knew but needed to be revealed to those wanting to improve themselves. It wasn't just a saying she parrotted, she believed in it.Right now, she was dressed like a rape victim.She was wearing what she believed was the single greatest piece of clothing ever made for the female form. A black cocktail dress. Thin, elegant shoulder straps, a custom made shape to cling to her body tightly.
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