As old farts go, George rampart was a pretty nice guy… for an asshole -- at least, that 's what Lucy, the death of his three wives, had to say of him.

'' George IV, '' she said, blonde hair's-breadth tied in a bun and her curvy body bound by a constricting, darkness, but smart-looking line courting. They were at the lawyer 's place for the last mediation academic session of their divorce.

'' You 're smart, and you 're as loyal as a dog to his master, and your hammer is as long and as thick as a baseball bat. But you 're an unrelenting mother fucker in bed. My slit, my backtalk, and my sorry torn-up cocksucker are allergic to your fiend cock. ''

right field after she said this, Lucy pouted. George IV remembered how cute her crimson red back talk looked turned down and out, a bit like a small fry after having a popsicle taken away from her before she 'd finished sucking on it.

Three old age gone, and he stilled missed those pouty red lips.

'' Georgie love, '' she said, laughing. `` I ca n't look at it any more. I 'm joining that club, that exceptional sorority of women whose pussies you have worn out with too very much fucking. Shoot man, I have to divorce you because I need a residuum ! You and your pecker, I 'm either going to become a nun, or I 'm going to go a lesbian. ``

He chuckled remembering this.

George surveyed the restaurant. The place was well established, and the food was good. The card was just expensive enough to keep out the riff-raff : stripling, or families with squealing tike. The walls were paneled with dark burnt sienna, the tables had plenty of space between them, the carpet were plush and rich-looking.

The waiter knew George and respected him. They gave him a good table every time he ate there, which was usually at night for dinner. Today was different. He'd closed a expert deal that morning, and so gave himself the day off and decided to receive a former lunch at his preferent eating place in town. The place was quiet. Only a few patrons were in the dining room, strategically placed far apart so that each could give birth a private space to eat, piece of work, catnap, have a drink.

George V didn't recognized anyone in the room. No surprise, really, since this wasn't the hour of the day when he was usually there. He sipped his bourbon and surveyed the room.

And across the room, against the far niche, St. George saw what appeared to be a adult female of amazing beauty and sexuality. She was in her mid-fifties ( but George could narrate that she was in very secure shape ). She was blonde ( but he thought, not a cancel blonde ). She wore a red sundress that displayed a gallant bust line and exposed the clean cushy skin of her shoulders ( not a wrinkle on her tegument, he thought ).

The woman was busy studying the contents of a sinister leather portfolio, and every so often she would use a pen to stool a notation on one of the pageboy. She's got a promontory for business, he thought. She's focused on that portfolio and completely unaware of the sleep of us in this elbow room. That made him smile, and his sat back comfortably in his chair to admire the view. She wouldn't look up for a long sentence, he knew. He could wait at her, admire her body and grimace and longsighted hair, and she wouldn't know for a yearn time. So he started to enquire about her breasts. They were troll and good, and they pushed hard against the cotton cloth of her sundress. Faintly, her nipples pimpled the cloth that wrapped her white meat and formed delicious chassis that made George think of creamy, cherry-filled chocolates.

He would care to deliver her as dessert, he thought. His turncock, which till now lay limply between his branch, pulsed slightly and started to inspissate.

The thought of making love to this gorgeously shaped woman broadened his smile, and George IV began to express mirth gently.

When George Wall laughed, the pleasance of his laugh started rich inside his torso and welled up like a refreshed jet of sparkling champagne. He exuded pleasure and joy and an unbelievable animalism that drew women to him the way attractive feature attract steel.

It was the sound of his first-class laughter that caused the woman to attend up at him.


KoKo latte to raise her steel-gray eyes up from the hand she was reading in the portfolio to see just who could be making such a joyful sound, and why. She decided that joyful was the decent word to describe what she heard -- and what that audio caused her to feel.

And there he was, this man - big bodied, about fifty or so, with slightly graying hair and a clean, smooth-shaven face, was boldly studying her and gently laughing with what appeared to be genuine delight. It was slightly disconcerting. But only slightly. Because it was also pleasant.

KoKo Latte was an live - and questioning -- business fair sex with a skin hardened by nearly xxx years of producing, writing, directing, and starring in pornographic lineament picture. Koko latte, whose real public figure was Sarah Evangeline Gouverneur Morris ( and she hated that figure, God-damn her mother for branding her with it ! ) had developed a repute as the hardest-working, porno queen in the industry. She wisely exploited her reputation, too, marketing herself on her website and in her picture show as 'The Greatest female person Entrepreneur in the pornography manufacture. ''

Her lover loved it. Her business partners loved it too, because the moving-picture show that started Koko made them thousands of dollars a class.

As you can imagine, Koko - after having her pussycat probed every which way by cocks and cameras of every size and shape - was a rowdy client. She came to this restaurant every afternoon for a tardily dejeuner to work diligently without interruption on whatever her current project was at the time. Today, it was the hand for the next motion-picture show she was to direct. She had written it. It had a political theme : The madam of a cathouse is running for President of the United States, and garners run contributions from the CEOs of worldwide pot by giving the men ball-bursting cock sucking. There was one female CEO in the mix, too, which gave Koko an opportunity to film a girl-girl scene. She was working on this component part of the script, trying to fancy out who would make the best female person co-star, when she became aware of George's deep and pleasant laughter.

What fiddling wittiness KoKo had, she kept locked up in a tiny room deep in her spunk, where no one could possibly get at it, destroy it, or take it away from her. But this man … there was something about him. Electric, animalistic sense experience began to prick at her tegument. Her core raced just a little faster, and she felt her cheeks blush and mature warm as her blood pulsed warmly in her vena. a great deal to her surprise, her twat began to feel a warm wetness.

Looking at George 's John Brown middle and hairy arms, his thickening middle and strong limbs began to unlock the door to that secret, deeply guarded secret room inside her heart. This man had kindled a flaming, and he was stirring the fires of passion !

She put down her pen, placed the portfolio closed on the table."What's so amusing ?"she asked. She smiled. Her saying was frank, out-of-doors, non-confrontational, and welcomed conversation.

St. George beamed. He accepted her evident invitation, smiling broadly to usher his gabardine teeth and red tongue.

"I'm not laughing because something is funny. I am laughing because I feel thoroughly. I feel very good looking at you. You're the reason why I feel so happy,"he said.

Koko gave the man a professional appraisal. Was this fellow adept material - that is, pornography picture star material ? Hhm, she wondered. It would depend upon two factors : His pecker, and his stamina. He needed both to be hanker … well, she thought. There's only one way to find out.

Koko stood up. That in itself was a Major statement of carnality. Her breasts swelled, her tenuous waist accentuated the upper and depleted conformation of her amazing public figure. Her long legs - smooth, unhampered with stockings of any kind, substantial, muscleman toned, brown with sun and sea.

Well, she said to George I. Let's see just how happy I can make you. She provocatively strode across the eatery to his tabular array. charge to come, she asked, and started out the door. And then she stopped, and turned to him again. You do know how to get, don't you ?

* * *

As she walked away from his table through the restaurant, St. George felt a pronounced pressure in his
undershorts. He pulled out his wallet, threw a few Federal Reserve note on the table, and hurried after her. They didn't have far to go. At the entrance to the eating place, there was a narrow-minded, outrageous staircase. George I hadn't ever given it a lot thought before. But here at the fundament of these dark-stained wooden stairs this amazing goddess was waiting for him. As he approached her, she turned and climbed the stairs … and George followed fill up behind her plentiful tail. Was it possible, he wondered, that he was going to get a man of that amazingly beautiful ass, wrapped in a conservative concern skirt, and propelled in all sorts of awe-inspiring focussing by those substantial, slender, lickable legs ?

The staircase was foresighted and narrow as the two climbed to the 2nd history. George I had a long time to watch this woman's ass checks rise and pin under her tightly fitting doll as she led him through to a dimly lit hall to a conservative-looking concern power with a sign on the door, Aphrodite Productions.

The woman led George into the office, shut the doorway, and locked it.

My gens is Koko, she said. What's yours ?

George II, and he was about to say that he thought her an incredibily beautiful cleaning woman … but before he could say another Holy Scripture, Koko started to take her clothes off.

After she'd freed both breasts and stood with only her panty on, she looked at him quizzically."And you, do you plan to bonk me with your pants on or off ?"

St. George yanked at his apparel, pulling off clitoris and jamming the slide fastener in his haste.

Koko lost no time. She looked at him critically, examining his erect penis and muscular legs, weapon and chest, the flat iron gruelling stomach. Yes, she said to him. One of out two.

"Huh ?"

"Never brain, you'll find out."

In five arcminute Koko was licking her way up the muscles of his inner thigh. St. George thought he'd died and gone to heaven.

Koko had breasts that won't quit. In fact, she had nothing that would depart. Everything was moving around like crazy. George wrestled her up off his cock … just in time … and went to put to work, diving his mouth in between those round, smooth thighs to take a big, big juicy mouthful of curly, soft, warm up, wet adult female. He began gently, teasingly, just touching the labia and her rigid button-like clitoris with picayune wanton licks. She smelled like a warm honey drenched lamb chop served on a summer patio in the Aegean Sea. Koko was murmuring something entirely unintelligible.

Then George started to dig in, started to eat that dulcet kitty-cat alive. Koko was sighing and squealing. She was singing and filling that slight fur cup with garden pink bubbly. That round ass was bumping and jumping. It was time.

George wasn't patrician with her. He placed his big dick, set himself, and drove the meat fully into her. All the way.

She took it with a groan. And when he slammed it into her again, she shouted something and clamped her tooth into his shoulder joint. He could feel the juice running out of her pussy each clip shoved it in. Those large beautiful eyes were staring up at him in shock.

The devil dog had landed !

The Yanks were here !

The cavalry was coming … and so was Koko Latte.

She came with a grunt and a heave that almost threw George IV off the desk. But then he started pumping, and pumping, and pumping into her until he was dizzy with the effort. She was laughing and yelling, scratching his ass, and kicking like a colt. Those behemoth breasts were bouncing around like association football balls.
This was one of the near, thought George V, as he spurted a warm, pulsing gusher of his man juice inside of her. This is one of the very best !

Koko lay shuttering beneath him. Her center were glazed and rolling around in their sockets, and for a time she had that dopey look of a woman who'd eaten too many magic mushrooms. When she came to, she looked up at him and smiled. Two of two, she said. You'll do a damn amercement job.

How would you wish me to make you into a porno hotshot ? she asked him .