"How old are you, Megan?" Does it matter, Mr. Underwood?" Artie."She nodded."I guess not, Megan." I leaned forward to kiss her; she responded with an ...pen mouth and a searching tongue. She pushed my hands away from my belt and used her own to open it, reaching then for the zipper. I reciprocated by opening her jeans and letting them drop to the floor. We had by then moved from the kitchen into the dry living room.I looked down to see wisps of blonde cunt hair escaping from the panties. I knew. We were flattered, but his pushiness began to annoy the other patrons. To the point that, at the insistence of a customer, maybe a little too jealous, a waiter told him he had to leave. However, before he left, we bought a small bouquet of red roses, in appreciation for his bel canto.It was a beautiful night indeed, full of stars and from our table, we had a beautiful view of the river and a nice boardwalk underneath, Paseo Alcalde Marques del Contadero. The boardwalk didn't seem very busy at. More

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