Once done with the cheese and tea she tucked herself into the wall opposite me and began to talk. Her voice was soft and warm. She spoke slowly and with an inherent sweetness that made me yearn for each and every word that she uttered. She told me that in the course of her studies, She had in a fashion learnt to understand people. She knew about men who carried guns and generally didn’t like them. She liked hobby hunters even lesser. I apparently didn’t seem to act like any criminal She had ever seen. Nor did I appear to be a hobby hunter who killed for pleasure. So, according to Her, I had obviously lied. This, it seemed was fine by Her as my lie was probably only said to maintain my own privacy. And privacy was something She respected. I in turn asked Her if She was usually in a habit of walking up to gun toting strangers and calling them liars. She said She wasn’t but had made an exception in my case. I couldn’t help but smile at this. She said there was something about my. All Steve could do was lay there pumping his cock in and out of her milking fingers, enjoying the feelings of pleasure that rushed through him as it continued to errupt in hot squirts of sticky cream. Finally, it was over, and Jean licked the last few drops of cum from the head of his cock and trembled at the pleasure it gave her. She raised herself up and swung her leg from it's position that had him trapped during the sixty-nine sex that they had both enjoyed. She rose and stood before him. Her breast were dripping with his cum and there were traces of it still clinging to her lovely mouth and chin. She smiled and said "Well sailor boy, what did you think of that?" Steve sat up and laughed. She looked beautiful in her nakedness but he had never seen her act or expose herself like this to him before. All he could say was "Jean, I didn't think you could ever do something like that. I like this side of you, but for the life of me I don't know where it came from." Jean left the.
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