She put a hand on the corner of the desk to help climb up.“He turned me around and pressed my face down onto the desk, Father. I couldn’t say no.�...� ‘I bet you couldn’t,' the priest thought. He hardly dared speak. Silently, he continued to stroke his cock. He couldn’t wank as fast as he wanted for fear she’d hear him. The slow steady movements pulling his foreskin up over the head and back down again built up the pleasure and tension slowly.“And then?”Then he’d flipped her dress up, exposing her. An hour and two drinks later she was at her randy stage, she begged me to take her back to our room and fuck her. This I did more than happily and afterwards I suggested she leave her bikini top behind, she just giggled and did; a big girl like her shouldn't giggle when they are topless. After that she was happy to flaunt herself, much to the delight of the other Hotel guests. The last day dawned and I wanted some pictures of her, but again she balked at the suggestion. Rufus worked his magic. And then there were the sauces, bolognaise, marinara, puttinesca, different types of ravioli and gnocchi. When he wasn’t looking I would dip my finger into the sauce, as I’d seen him do, and taste them. This was all new to me, Mother was a traditional cook, plain wholesome food with the occasional, very occasional, venture into the more exotic such as her version of spaghetti bolognaise or even lasagne, neither of which tasted anything like Gino’s. She hated garlic, and Italian cuisine was. I started washing and suddenly go the urge to see his body again. Trying not to be conspicuous, I scooted closer to the divider so I could peek over. He had a great ass, too, and a big dick looked even better close up. I wanted so bad to jack off. I turned back around and washed some more. Then I scooted back over and peeked again. I thought I was being discrete but he caught me looking and smiled. Like what you see? he asked. I backed away and he said not to be embarrassed. He said he was.
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