Room service


posted by sooyup on ,

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Do you fancy anything to eat, Emma asked. Pussy is what I jokingly asked for, and pussy is what was immediately offered. Just a taster. What our pretentious local chef calls an amuse-bouche - a tiny morsel to whet the appetite. Very tiny in Henris case - a square centimetre of toast and a shrimp, glued on with cheese-spread from a tube. But I digress. A text from daughter Eva, just as we arrived at the hotel, had read: Cant come. Sent home sick. Phone. Phone we did, and Eva sounded poorly. We promised to call next day with soothing remedies and victuals. (Theres never anything to eat in Evas kitchen cupboards.) Meanwhile, Emma and I had the afternoon and evening to ourselves - just the way I like it. Thats when Emma asked if I would like anything to eat, and obligingly removed her tights and panties. [The picture is an action replay, observed by the hotel mascot.] A pre-prandial (before dinner) fuck quickly followed, then an excellent four-course meal. The after-dinner mints were followed by an after-dinner fuck. End of day one.

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