It had been a long, fun day. After breakfast at Juan’s coffee bar in the huge farmer’s market, we’d walked to the Picasso Museum, then tapas for lunch, more walking to the cable car that took us across to Montjuic, more walking back to the hotel and dinner at the 4 Cats. My legs and back felt my age, but my dick tingled often during much of the day. Fifteen minutes later, I was more awake than I had been. I couldn’t tell if Ashley had fallen asleep. I could see her shape under the sheet, now that my eyes had adjusted, and thought about her smooth skin. It occurred to me that even in total darkness, I could easily tell my little girl from a woman ten years older, and not just by the feel of her skin. The juicy taste and peach scent of her pussy would give her away. My cock was tingling again. Even when I was married, if I couldn’t sleep, I masturbated. Feeling around in the dark, I quietly slid open the little nightstand on my side and found the Vaseline. When I’d unpacked, actually. Annie just stood there, the smell of testosterone like lilac to her nostrils, her boss behind her. “Make it easy for them, Annie. On your knees. Now tell them all what it is you want.”“I want to have my face covered in spunk.”“Louder, Annie. They need to hear you at the back.”“I need to feel spunk all over my face,” Annie said, raising her voice.“Louder, Annie. Shout it from the rooftops! A woman should never feel ashamed of her needs.”At the top of her voice, Annie declared, “Give me spunk! All you’ve got! I need thick, creamy loads all over my face! I want to feel my face drenched and dripping with spunk!”A hard cock prodded her face. She glanced up to see Mr Wilson standing over her. “I always knew there was something about you, Annie,” he told her, folding his fingers round his equipment. Stamina proved to be the least of Mr Wilson’s talents, for no sooner had he done so than he was spurting, thick white shooting across Annie’s top lip.There was loud applause. Ms Pickawilly.
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