The museum's curator was a Kenneth Hill and Major Ployer "Pete" Hill was his great grand uncle. A cell phone call reached him in his office. I signed ...he guest register at the vacant reception desk—the museum wasn't open yet and the receptionist hadn't arrived—and Ken met me in the lobby. Television monitors were blank, most of the interior lights were off. Ken led me through the double wooden doors marked "authorized personnel only" and into his office."You mentioned something about making. Oooohhh so good.' I don't know how I kept up, I didn't lose her once, and the speed of her strokes told me she was getting close. She has both hands behind my head, then suddenly I felt her cock seem to harden then expand. She buried herself in the depths of my throat and held my face firmly against her stomach. Oooooohhhh sssshiiiitt, and her whole body spasmmed. I could feel her seed sliding into my stomach but could not taste her essence. Slowly, as she ceased spasming she eased. More

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