The meals were French, like Jack. She enjoyed everything that was gallic as it reminded her of those school trips to the continent twice every year, i... only they lasted a weekend each trip. Over their meal Helen and Jack exchanged both conversation and glances. She was dying to challenge him on one recent aspect. ‘Jack, what would you say if I told you that there was a middle-aged man wanting to fuck me?’ Jack paused in taking a sip of his wine, looked at her and thought hard. ‘Well, that. Like a stallion in rut, he spun her toward him, his lips heavier now, his kiss more insistent. She sensed his hungering libido. His hands scooped her ass, lifting and carrying her to the bed.Just outside the room, the voyeur touched his own stiff cock, letting his fingers on the tip, feeling the drop of pre-cum, spreading it over his tip. His weakened knees and shortness of breath would have betrayed him to any passerby, but it wasn't the kind of motel where anyone would care. A place for. More

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