He lay on his back, his hands cuffed to the headboard, his hard cock pointing straight at the hotel ceiling. Her gloved hand stroked it expertly, up a...d down, up and down. Pursing her lips above the tip of his member, she occasionally produced a slow string of saliva, letting it drip down gently on his helmet and run lazily down the sides of the shaft. She covered the skin of the cock in her spit, spreading it all over, and then dribbled some more, her glove wet and slippery like his bulging. But nothing like that had ever happened. Instead, the displays, and his watching, became almost a ritual. He was certain that she did not know he could see her. She would have been too embarrassed to be seen by that dirty old man next door. But the pleasure she was giving him was indescribable. He hadn’t been able to get a really firm erection since his wife's death, until he began to watch her, and now, his releases were as strong as any he had ever experienced.On some evenings, she would sit. More

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