When I had closed the gap between us, I saw that she looked to be about thirty-years-old, but I instantly got the impression that she was far older than she appeared to be.Actually I'd seen few people who appeared to look any older than forty, all the time we'd been in the city."Good afternoon, your highness," was the only greeting that I could think of."Oh, please don't be so formal, George. You know as well as we do, that we're just another ordinary person like yourself, Douglas, Sylvia or Rose." Who rules the World!" I found myself reminding her. But I was thinking "And it doesn't appear to have stopped you using the Royal 'we' though, does it Simul?"I thought it prudent not to voice that thought, though."Just because somebody has to, George. Not because we wish too. That is the first prerequisite of a Simul actually; not to want the chore." I don't understand, your highness." No, you're a man, I didn't suppose you would understand, unless you knew our history. You will call me Kay. I sank to the hilt which brought a groan from her, muffled by our kiss. Her back arched, pressing her breasts against my chest. She kept her hand between us with thumb and index finger around my shaft, applying pressure as I retreated. I’d never experienced that before; it felt nice. I wondered if her thumb was pressing on her clit, too. Damn! I was fucking Steph! Her pussy was just the right tightness, enhanced by her grip just outside. I drove back down into her, harder this time. She grunted as I bottomed, turned her head to free her mouth, and gasped, “Oh, God, fuck me, Steve. God, your dick is perfect. Harder, more.” I obliged. Squishy wet sounds emerged from my thrusting and I wondered how wet her hand was getting. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles around my waist, pulling on me with each downstroke, urging me to go deeper and harder. She removed her hand and brought it to her nose. It glistened with her juices and I licked them from her index finger. .
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