I walked up to him and said, “That’s me.” “Welcome to Ibiza. You can call me Mike. My full name is too long and complicated to pronounce.” ...“Okay, Mike, where to?” He took my bag, which I thought was very sweet of him. Mike looked to be in is late thirties or early forties. He wasn’t overly fit, and not very tall. I followed him out to the parking lot where he stopped by a little car with several scratches on it. “Sorry, I left the Ferrari at home,” he said with a grin. “Oh, it’s okay, I. He slid his hand up to the top of her shorts, and she let him slide his hand into them, and into her panties. He could feel the curls of her pubic hair run through his fingers. When his fingers hit the moisture of her slit, she moaned into his mouth again. She was all his. Her expert fingers undid the button in his shorts and pulled down the zipper. Her hand dove into his underwear and grabbed his hard cock. It felt average in size, nothing to write home about. But in her condition, any cock. More

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