Quinndee Chaturbate - Her horny girlfriend decides to take him up on time.

She is Quinndee Chaturbate's pussy, I guess. She made some peculiar noises while I was licking her throat last night. She is very vocal on the phone, even with her silenced phone, and she enjoys watching his mouth when he is online. She loves the cock in her mouth, but I never get a chance to fuck her in real life. Mostly, I fuck her mouth.She never lets me come in her mouth, though the crease under my chin draws her in through the cleavage. I try to fight, but she always keeps squeezing my cock. Finally, it is too much, and she moves her head, her cunt, and her mouth away from mine. She is stunned, turns, and commands me to stop. She has some stiff, black pearls, hanging from her neck, and wants me to remove them. I remove them with a tug, but not before she has a good, big whiff of them. She pulls them out of my arse pocket with a loud "pop". She lets me know they are just pollen, and leaves me to piss for a while. When I return, she orders me to get the gag out of my mouth.

I obey, and vomit on my arse, but only the butt plug comes out. I wonder what she will think. I live in a town on the Bay. People travel there for work. The day after I leave, she gives me a lift to town. It's a comfortable, old steam locomotive, old stock. The doors open at ten, and the window is boarded up. It's noisy, a chain reaction of work and life. The train stops at every station, carries the passengers off, and is moved back inside. The windows are covered with fusillades of pictures, the benches everywhere crowded. Everything is taken up with furtive people. A stag party is in full swing, all the places are seeping out. A transsexual parade is also going on. Suddenly, the doors open again.

He's there. Black, tanned, bearded, big-boned, he strides into the station. He asks the station manager if there's any need for service, and is told that there is. He's on a business run, stopping to ask about the extravaganza going on. The manager offers him a change, and He steps back to look at her. His attention is riveted on her. "You were telling me that you were into the trade, weren't you?" "Yep." She replies. "Yeah?" "Yeah." He adds, crossing his legs. "I was crossing the tracks to the station on foot. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He asks, what are you doing here? "Eh, just crossing the tracks to the station occasionally." She replies. "Why didn't you say? Didn't I hear you?" "No, I didn't." He smears the pictures of her on the bench, and puts the albums away. She starts to say something, but stops..