He cums inside you

"Your slutty little pussy is going to get my rocks off," Mr. Crassle says as he continues to pound your pussy.

You look back over your shoulder at the bronzed old man and smile.

"You like that pussy?" You bounce up and down on him as you thrust back. "Is it going to make you cum?"

"Ohh," he groans, "it's so tight."

"Cum inside me," you pant. "Shoot your load in my pussy."

"Gonna...gahhh!"

You feel his hard prick blast your insides like a firehose. You squeeze him and milk him as he fucks you and pumps his cum deep into your womb. You can feel the heat of his sperm squirting from his twitching cock. Three last slow thrusts and he drains out the last of his cum into your welcoming pussy.

His dick shrivels quickly, falling from your cum-filled cunt. Some of his semen oozes out and splatters on the floor between your legs.

"God damn, you little slut," he gasps. "I thought your pussy was going to kill me."

You turn around, your dress falling to cover your ass, and press your lips to his. He smells like aftershave and cigars, but his minty mouth opens and he probes you with his tongue.

"Mmmmm," you moan against him. "You're a good fuck for an old codger."

"You're a good fuck by any standard," he replies.

Mr. Crassle pulls his boxers and pants back up as you slip your panties back on. He hands you a business card for his construction company.

"Any time you need a job or...," he gives your body another appraising look. "...anything else, just stop by or give me a call."

"You're not gonna tell Mr. Wood, are you?" You ask.

"Nah," Mr. Crassle straightens his tie. "Poor old Ernie, that would kill him."

He walks out whistling tunelessly. After a few minutes you regain your senses. With a tired sigh, you walk out of the stall and splash a bit of cold water on your face. You take a moment to reapply your lipstick before you return to the table.

Mr. Crassle is already back at the table, tucking into his steak while his ditzy wife picks at a salad. You feel bad about what just happened, but you remember what Mr. Wood said about allowing boyfriends. All the same, you doubt he'd like to hear you just got fucked by his worst enemy, so you have trouble making eye contact with him when he welcomes you back to the table.

All the same, as you settle into your chair you pat him affectionately on the leg.