His name and address were written in carefully inked block letters which, though he didn't recognize the hand, he sensed that he should. Puzzled, he tucked both the magazine and the box under his arm and climbed the three flights to his 3rd floor landing. There he felt the familiar sensation of being watched. He always felt watched on the landing. If not by that creepo Sullivan, than by that old busybody, Mrs. Norge. That's right, like Norge the washer and dryer Norge. As always, he considered raising a welcoming finger to the spy, but settled for a mental one instead.Sullivan was something else. Not gay-he wouldn't insult the gay community with the inclusion of Larry Sullivan-but something along the lines of a child molester/animal torturer. Every time in his presence, Todd felt slimy afterward, as though Sullivan exuded an invisible field that enveloped--or more accurately, captured Todd. He imagined Sullivan in a dark, stonewalled room somewhere, sharpening various instruments,. ..... i told her to stand on the coffee table, she did as was told, she looked stunning stood there dripping on the table......... i slowly run my hands over her tight ass & hips...........down the out side of her legs, then up the inside ........... she had a nice gap between her legs leading to her crutch............ i told her to move her legs apart, & i let my finger run along her pussy slot.......... it was moist, & my finger slipped a long it nicely........as i gently rubbed her i run my other hand over her firm round breasts & started to pull her big brown nipples............ they swelled up nice & hard between my fingers, Larisa closed her eyes & moaned out loud as i pinched & pulled them. i reached around the back of her wet dress & pulled the zipper down, & then pulled it off her shoulders & let it fall to the floor......... i stood back & my cock started to twitch as i feasted my eyes on her perfect 10+ body ! i told them to follow me up stairs to the attic, we entered the.
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