He would come every evening shortly after dusk, pick the darkest corner table, and watch me. He was very handsome, very refined, well dressed. Not at ...ll the sort you would have expected to frequent a whorehouse, more the sort to keep a mistress or two stashed away somewhere. ‘Often he would bring a book, and write by the light of a single candle for hours. Once I caught him sketching me. Always he came alone. ‘One evening, shortly before closing time, I brought out some of my papers to work. Looking at how this b**stly black head, how wide it was, contrasted her thin, tight pussy, I didn -(TM)t know if it would fit. But lust and a little bit of spite fueled my determination to make it fit. She cooed a little, pressing her little pussy against it, not to take it in, but kind of to identify what it was. I slid the length of the shaft against her clit, explaining exactly how thick and long this monster was to her pussy. "You're crazy," she said, finally removing the blind folds,. More

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