He was sitting down, so it was hard to tell how tall he was. But he looked small and compact, like most good pilots.I knew he was a pilot because his ...tylish leather flight jacket had a Lockheed logo and the name O’Leary embossed on it. It was eighty degrees inside the diner, and he was strutting around like he was Lindbergh over Paris. But certain kinds of fellows always have to flaunt themselves. At least he wasn’t dressed in bib overalls and a union suit like me.He stretched his hand across. I slowly and gently slide my finger inside you. You gasp, grown and moan. Your virgin pussy clamped tight around my finger. You stop biting my neck, my legs still shaking. ‘Are you ok, Mistress?’ I ask you softly. ‘Mmmhmm, yes.’ You say shyly. I slowly finger you and you gasp again. I stop and take my finger out as you take your fingers out of mine. ‘Mistress, I want to make you happy and make you cum.’ I say submissively to you. ‘Get on your knees, slut.’ You say in a demanding voice. You grab. More

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