It doesn't do to be seento do too well.So all good, until, "There is he is, that's him sorr!"If people want to identify me, it's usually bad. I tried ...o ignore it.Maybe if I focused on my hand it would turn out I wasn't "he", and Iwouldn't look guilty in the bargain.But the voice continued, and footsteps got closer and closer across thesaloon floor."I told you sorr, that's him isn't it? The Pensacola Kid? I get my cut?"This didn't sound good. I looked round. I looked up. And up some more.There. We kissed and sucked and fucked the evening away until the bed and us both were a hot mess. It was Saturday evening now and we wanted to go out. It was dinner and live music and drinks. In other words, foreplay. I wore a leopard number under my dress with no panties. I also wore my boots he loves. I purposely left all of my wettness between my legs from the afternoon romp we had. I figured he might want an appetizer or dessert while we were out. We had dinner and drinks and listened to the. More

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