I call it the junkshop.I'm in love with the junkshop girl. She's not the owner, so strictly speakingshe's not the junkshop girl, either. Sometimes I'l... go by and I'll see theowner there, a squat older woman from some Southeast Asian country, and I'llpass by, avoiding her forbidding scowl.But other times I'll be about to pass by the window of the junkshop and I'lljust know my girl is there. Maybe I've subconsciously glimpsed her in one ofthe tarnished tablespoons in the window, or maybe her. Still kissing, you bit my lip and slowly pulled away and let out a sexy little growl, making me even more horny than I ever thought possible. Unable to take it any longer, I reached around your back, grabbed your ass and pulled you into me, letting out a not so quiet moan as the entirety of your throbbing cock entered me. Not used to having to be so quiet, you kissed me in an attempt to stifle the noises I made. All the teasing and anticipation of the evening had sped us up and I could tell by. More

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