She had her quarters right in room 101 and I guess that was the perk of the job of managing the five story building down in the seamier side of town closer to the Mission District than most folks would look for if they wanted stylish accommodations.My place was up on Market in one of those buildings that had probably been there for the great fire. My living room window jutted out onto the street like a bay on the world of illegally parked cars and trams that threw off sparks wherever they went.As soon as we entered into her home, I was struck by the piles of newspapers that lined the walls of the long hallway that dropped us into her living room similar to mine up on Market. Only hers was cluttered with tiny figurines and odds and ends that looked like they were relics from another era.I kept looking around expecting to see a black cat hiding in a corner.Fortunately, there were no black cats or Russians for that matter to shatter my supposed “cure” to little pieces. I discovered that. As his balls tightened and lifted, his cock swelled to impossible hardness while the first heavy spurt of cum tore out of him and onto his stomach and her fingers. Now his body hunched over as each convulsion pushed another hot jet of cum out, covering his stomach, the underside of his shirt and her now stroking hand. As he finally emptied himself out with a gasping shudder, the woman pulled her hand out and, never breaking eye contact, sucked her fingers clean. Then, as he groaned and sank back against the seat, she leaned over, lifted his shirt, and licked his stomach clean, just as the train was pulling into King Street Station. Simon grinned and sat back as his handiwork played out, his presence virtually forgotten as the echoes of their pleasure cascaded through their bodies, starting a whole new buildup of lust. The couple stood up as the doors opened and walked out of the train. As they wandered off on shaky legs, Simon could hear hasty plans being made for how they could.
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