Her hands clasped my belt, slowly undoing it. I ran my hands up her waist, settling on her breasts, they felt firm and stiff through her blouse, sligh...ly bigger than a handful. My hands worked from the top button, undoing them down until her torso was bare, except for her black lacy bra.By now, Miss Smith had my pants down around my ankles, and was pulling down my underwear. My cock sprang free, standing to attention. It was seven and a half inches long, and thicker than my hand could go. I dressed in thermal long johns, and the rest of my uniform, then headed out for a morning ride. Since there was a steady breeze blowing, I remembered the ski mask. The only reason no one challenged me as a Russian ski trooper, was that I was riding a bike not a ski-mobile. That, and even more importantly, the people who were up at six in the morning recognized me as a harmless old man.I did my calorie burning thing first, then I did a ride around the neighborhood. It was after seven so I saw. More

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