My cock started to swell as I looked at her ass sway in the tight black skirt and glimpsed her muscled thigh through the slit that opened up with each...step she took. Glancing at her hand, I saw that she too was married and then I realized that I did not even know her name. Before I knew it, she had led me out of a side door and we were now in a hallway that ran the length of the ballroom. Going through a small maze of hallways, she took me to a meeting room and we quickly ducked inside. The. Mrs. W. was a frumpy, lumpy old redhead, with a wide ass and a prominent boob shelf jutting from the shapeless sack dresses she wore. To my nineteen year old self, she seemed ancient, although I suppose she was somewhere in her late fifties to early sixties. My room was on the third floor of the old house, sort of an attic under the roof with sloping ceiling and two dormer windows. There were two overseas grad students on the second floor, who I rarely encountered, and Mrs. W. resided on the. More

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