She watched me drool for a moment and then she said, “So where can we go?”I eyed the janitorial close and lead her down the hall. I knew it had to...be empty. We slid in unnoticed.I pulled her jacket down and put my face into those luscious C Cup tits grabbing her ass cheeks in my hands. Then she stopped me.“One condition. Stop, I mean it. I’ll only do this if it’s something special.”“It’ll be special.” I began opening my jeans.She placed her hands over mine to stop me, but continued undressing. "Do you refuse?" said Mercedes, in a tremulous voice. "Pray excuse me, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "but I never eat Muscatel grapes."Mercedes let them fall, and sighed. A magnificent peach was hanging against an adjoining wall, ripened by the same artificial heat. Mercedes drew near, and plucked the fruit. "Take this peach, then," she said. The count again refused. "What, again?" she exclaimed, in so plaintive an accent that it seemed to stifle a sob; "really, you pain me."A long silence. More

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