The old man from the portrait eyed her from within the plush bed and wagged a finger for her to go to him. Miar forced a practiced smile, one with eag...rness mixed with a hint of shyness. She sauntered toward him, adding a little more sway to her hips. Miar spread her arms and spun, slow and deliberate, as she scanned the room for any potential weapon. Her brown gaze found a fruit knife on a gaudy looking table. She looked back at the old man and a surge of revulsion twisted in her gut. His fat. The cap, containing a plunger, screwed onto the open end of the tube sealing it, much like modern caulking guns. When I pressed the plunger, thin, threadlike nylon fibers came out through tiny holes I made in the bottom cap of each tube. When the nylon filaments reached a foot long, one of the women I had there grabbed them with a gloved hand and began twisting them as if making thread from cotton, wool, or silk. When the thread was long enough, she hooked it to a treadle-powered spinning wheel. It was pretty obvious that neither of us needed any foreplay so I simply lifted my short skirt, exposing my bare cunt, then straddled his thighs, facing him and lowered myself onto his cock. He positioned his cock against my hole and I slipped down his pole until he was buried deep inside me. Oh! I feel so full! Now fuck me. And he did. After a few minutes of pushing his cock in and out of me, I felt him pumping his load into my cunt. When he had come down from his orgasm he realised that I had. This was a skill she had cultivated. For him to notice her, he had to have something or someone in mind. It was not good that a cop noticed her, particularly now. As excited as she was, talking with a policeman was way too much like being doused with a bucket of cold water. Well, she had to admit that he was cute, but he was still a cop. It was good that she had kept her hands at her sides. Maybe she could get away from him before her excitement faded completely. Her mood and her excitement.
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