“Fine with me,” said Harriet, “you know what I like.” It was clear that Harriet had been here before with her best friend., probably with Owen...in attendance as well.“Sure,” I said.We’d barely looked at the menus. I did notice that none of the choices had prices with them. That had to mean that if you had to ask you shouldn’t have been in the place.The waiter arrived and she ordered. It would be some kind of prime rib ensemble. At least she ordered in English. I’d been half expecting her to do. A sprightly older gentleman came bounding onto the rostrum and did a Prussian bow to his audience. He was a little taller than average at close enough to six-foot even, slim and straight-shouldered, blue-eyed, and had a full head of hair, albeit silver.He had no notes with him, no PowerPoint presentation, but in a clear voice with a slight German intonation, he had them as putty in his hands from his first words, “on the day after I was born, in München, my hometown in Deutschland, you all know. It could perhaps have been construed as constructive criticism, but more likely, it was her own desire to hear us take a crack at the song. And when she watched us play it, she was jumping up and down and clapping at the end.Here at the Valentine's dance, we brought down the house with "Born To Run". It brought about what was easily the biggest ovation of the evening. As we basked in the applause, I saw Inez give Allie a thumbs-up.We saved our special love duet, "I Want to Know What Love Is",. John raised Emma's hands above her head and bound her wrists to the head board. He placed one hand round her throat and applied just enough pressure to stop her breathing. As he did, he moved between her legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against her pussy, feeling the warmth and wetness of her. He wanted desperately to fuck her but controlled himself. He watched her squirm as he permitted her small breaths and rubbed and pinched her nipples. He loved the feeling of her firm warm breasts in his.
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