Let me start from the beginning.....Thursday morning, ten AM and I pull up at the airport. I jump out and the Married Guy and I shook hands like old ...riends. Anyone watching might think it was a son picking up his father from the airport after a business trip. There is a twenty year age difference between us.Driving away, and still on airport property, the Married Guy was undoing my jeans and started rubbing my cock.Between gear shift changes, I was rubbing his cock as well. We were both. He could move perfectly now. And his laundered clothing were on a chair by the door. He did still detect his own semen across his thighs. His fair skin was overcome with a blush as he changed. Best to face it head on. He headed downstairs. She was in the kitchen, dressed in a cheery yellow dress, with a plate of pancakes. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation.“Better get your breakfast! That ferry is coming soon,” she said, with the cheerful demeanor of a suburban housewife who knew that. More

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