Finally Mr. Clark stands up and simply says, “take off your pants'. Unbuckling my belt, and raising my butt up off the chair, I slide my uniform pants down to the floor, the kick them off. “My gawd” Mr. Clark exclaims---”your a fuckin ape” !! I grin real big, then pull my legs up and placed my feet on the chair, mostly exposing my hairy jock ass crack. “Oh fuck” was all he could say. Mr. Clark went back down to his knees, and grabbing me by my thighs, went straight to my hairy jock hole, planting his tongue right into the center. This time, it was me that let out the groan. It was one of my favorite things—to feel a strong tongue slobbering over my hole. Mr. Clark paused just long enough to says “damm, your dirty as fuck” and went right back to work, running his tongue in and out of my ripe, greasy hole. He did this for what seemed like a long time, and now my big jock cock was at full attention. Finally coming out of my ass, he gently grabs my jock, and pulls it down to my feet. I. Paige and Cliff agreed on the type of pizza and had a beer while they waited for the food. Cliff learned more about Paige over dinner and that she hardly dated. Apparently most men in the Atlanta area preferred women like Pamela. Cliff was surprised because Paige had a pretty face and a wonderful smile. It was probably her tomboy appearance that the guys shied away from her. The pizza was delicious and it hit the spot with Cliff. After dinner Paige asked Cliff if he liked jazz. Cliff loved jazz and frequently went to a jazz place in Chicago. Paige drove them to a place called the Jazz Corner in a strip mall. It was small but quaint and the jazz was soothing. They had a couple of drinks as they listened to the music. They were sitting close together and their legs were touching. At one point Paige leaned into Cliff and he put his arm around her. Paige nestled in as it seemed to be the most natural thing to do. When the band took a break, they headed back to the hotel. Paige pulled up.
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