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Her hands spread them wider and Harry adjusted his stance. Then her tongue reached the small puckered opening.Harry shivered slightly in reaction but made no sound.Hermione smiled to herself as she moved her tongue all around, experimenting, exploring this new territory. She tried to remember what she liked him to do to her: quickly, then slowly; all around, then in and out like a tiny penis. She did this for some time, alternating her mouth and forefinger, enjoying the way his skin felt against her tongue, the way he tasted, the way he smelled—fresh and clean from the shower but musky, too, underneath—the tiny mewling noises he was making, something he had never done before, and the way that tiny ring of strong muscle little by little relaxed and he opened like a flower.Suddenly, Harry grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. She released him and he turned to face her, face flushed, eyes glassy, penis hard. He took her again by the shoulders, pulled her to him, then flipped them. “I’m 67 years old; I will be 68 in less than a month. My husband died 7 years ago and I have not real sex in over 9 years." Not believing what I was hearing, but never one to pass up pussy. I gently placed my hand on her shoulder and said, “please come in and let me help you with that." Claire walked into the house with my hand on her shoulder and I could feel her shaking. As she passed by me I closed the door and said, “Don’t be nervous. We will start slow and you can tell me to stop anytime you like." Claire stood in front of me and I placed my other hand on her shoulders. I leaned down and softly kissed the side of her neck and heard her sigh. "That feels nice." She whispered." I continued to kiss her neck and then her lower ear. I slowly moved my hands down and in front of her until they were lightly feeling her breasts. I allowed to rest there, waiting to see what she would say. Her breasts were at least the size of cantaloupes. Not as firm but I didn't mind. Not encountering.
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At 5:45 there was a knock on the door. Livy was standing there in her standard casual-Friday attire: corporate logo denim shirt and a pair of tight pants. Livy had already called the desk for a cab and made reservations at a local seafood restaurant. We didn't say much on the cab ride there. We had already seen more of each other in the past forty-eight hours than we usually saw each other all year. Dinner was non-eventful; we ordered coffee and dessert. Somewhere between the key-lime pie and the Irish coffee, the tension started to build. We had both felt it in the past, but we saw each other so rarely because we worked in different offices it was nothing more than a fleeting nudge. However, this time, the conversation became more intimate and personal. We soon hailed a cab and headed back to the hotel. As we walked through the lobby, Livy asked me if I wanted to go to the lounge and get a drink. As we headed into the lounge, we saw several familiar faces of fellow conference.

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