" No problem Bob, once I'm asleep my snoring will be keeping them up." I gathered up my card, license, and room key and drove around to my room. I saw...a sporty convertible parked next door. Nice. I unloaded my bag and cooler. A 6 pack to help unwind after seven hours behind the wheel. I was sitting outside my room on a folding chair enjoying a beer when the room next door opened. I looked over, then up, slowly. Maybe too slowly. But there was a long expanse of legs, then a very short expanse of. Suddenlyit was gone: all the arousal I had felt, all gone. It was like suddenlyfeeling nails scratching down a blackboard. I had touched Kara's labia,and the instant I had done so, I had felt queasy, almost sick. Somethinghad been triggered in my head to make me feel acutely uncomfortable withthe idea of touching a girl intimately like that. But why? How?It was how a straight man might feel if he reached out to touchsomething and then suddenly realised he was holding the shaft of anotherman's. I felt the urge to kiss her then but I restrained myself. “My husband works third shift,” she said. “Yeah,” I nodded. “So he needs to see me come home. He’ll be home at eight thirty tomorrow morning so I will need to be back by then. No sleeping.” “Fine by me,” I said with a grin. It was going to happen. “After work, I’ll go home, get cleaned up, make sure my kids are in bed, then I’ll come to the room for a bit.” “See you then, babe,” I said. Then I went back to work. Throughout the rest of my. She also delighted herself in remembering what a bad naughty girl she was. She recalled the time, before settling for her husband, when her promiscuity was only challenged by the amount of hard cocks willing to defile, in any way imaginable, this once nymphomaniac goddess now tamed by societal pressures of kids, friends, work and only-to-be-admired-“salope” etiquette. For so long she had resorted to distractions in order to tunnel through her ring induced ordeal. The trips to her parents, the.
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