"You clean up nice," you comment, noticing my dress shirt and black slacks."Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself," I reply."I'm pretty sure we've ...lready covered that subject," you say, brushing your hand past mine as you walk towards our table. I pause for a second, slightly shocked by the signal you've just sent.Coming to, I quickly make my way to the table and sit down next to you. Just as I settle into my seat I feel your hand on my knee. "What is going on?" I think to myself. We. Mrs. Matilde had moved on a little backwards while cleaning and dusting, almost sitting on me, bringing us to be together actually. My penis was now about to jump out of the boxers, unable to control this hard on; I stayed put, as it escapes me. My penis head got in contact with her buttocks, touching her. Had she been ignoring this? She was now a butterfingered who had stood up, clumsily dropped the lamp table, perhaps boxed out, traumatized by my daring actions. I still stared at her. More

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