“Un café, Monsieur Caine?” the waitress was still standing abreast of the table. Her voice startled me. I actually managed to forget she was the...e. It was uncanny how completely his presence he consumed my focus—gravity, or maybe magnetism. I suppose she probably felt the same way. We orbited him like a pair of moons, tidally locked by the force of his attentions. “Oui. Merci, Françoise.” She trotted off, and disappeared into the kitchen. I raised my brow quizzically. Having finished his. "Holy shit!" was all I could say. Chelsea looked down and saw a wet spot in the front of my jeans from the pre-cum oozing from my hard cock. Ronnie came out again, but this time in a sheer black teddy, fishnet thigh highs and high heels. Her lips were a dark red and her hair up in ponytails. I thought I was going to have a stroke. She turned and smacked her ass, leaving a nice red hand print on her lily white ass. Chelsea slowly undid my pants and pulled my cock out, gently stroking it. Ronnie. More

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