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Carissa knew instinctively that she should get right back in the elevator, push the button for the 12th floor and retreat to her room. She should call her boyfriend, make small talk about the conference, tell him she missed him, then go to bed early and masturbate for the rest of the evening. After the ride down the elevator with my cock shoved against her, she knew she is going to cum very soon. The only question is how she is going to do it. And she understood that she would be making a deliberate choice between masturbation and me. The elevator doors slide shut. And there is Carissa, still standing in the lobby, worried about the state of her saturated thong, and ready to head to the lounge with the biggest cock she has ever felt. And with a man she hardly knew attached to it. The hotel lounge is down a long hall from the lobby, and she can feel the pulse of the music before she even got to the doorway. There is something primal about the throbbing base. It even made her forget. 15 north. He stopped for the night at Six Nations Campground near one of the finger lakes. Again, there were a few other campers, but he was able to get a camp site away from anybody, yet close to one of the campground bathrooms with showers. Only a mile or two away was the small town of Watkins Glen, New York. He decided to head there for dinner and, after a night’s sleep in his tent, breakfast. Dinner was a burger at a bar that overlooked the southern end of Lake Seneca. Breakfast was at a local eatery, where Dave was sure he was the first ‘outsider’ to frequent the place in a decade. Everyone stared at him as though he came from another planet – mostly old grizzled men who appeared to have nothing better to do. He wondered whether he’d end up in the same place in a few years.Dave rode up the west side of Seneca Lake after breakfast, a comfortable two-lane road with many wineries along the route. Of all of them, Dave only recognized one name from something he’d had to drink back.
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