She had come from a small dairy farm in Iowa where she'd often milked cows by hand when the power went out. I had to teach her to be gentler with me. ...he held my balls now in her cupped palm, rolling them just a little. Practically salivating, she watched the pre-come dribble from my cock. Leaning down to lick the dribble up with the tip of her tongue, it looked as if she were catching the drip of an ice cream cone before it was lost. Her right hand cupped the head of my cock as if polishing it. Like I had done it without trying. But I did one thing to make sure I felt sexy. I didn’t bother wearing panties. Smiling wide at my secret, I headed to the café. I spot him immediately. Dark hair, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt that accentuated his muscles. It’s hard to miss him…he looks good enough to eat. Swallowing hard, I walk into the café. The little bell above the door rings, beckoning him to look towards me. He does. Something mysterious flickers across his face. He smiles, but. More

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