The woman asked Grace if she had time to meet photographer Irene Hayes. She took Grace to one side of the ballroom where the Louvre-doors were that gave access to the paved terrace lining one side of the ballroom. Irene was a fifty-year old brunette, slim, elegant, about the same height as Grace. She had long slim fingers that were straddling her champagne glass. Fingers, Grace imagined, that could go anywhere… “Sooo, you’re Grace”, she said while slowly encircling Grace, her eyes checking her. They both started giggling and then the blonde turned to look at me with a big grin on her face. The red head then turned herself round and for the first time I could get a good look at the hottie I had just fingered. Her boobs were small but she was gorgeous. She leant over to me, put her hand on my throbbing cock, kissed me on my cheek and whispered in my ear. "Thank you. That was so naughty. No one has ever touched me there. Shame it wasn't this monster." With which she stroked my cock. Then she announced, "I’m so close Ryan, keep fucking me. Oh my God I’m cumming." Within seconds her legs began to tremble and she started panting as her orgasm engulfed her. I knew exactly what she was experiencing as the heavenly waves of ecstasy rippled uncontrollably through her whole body. Even when her panting subsided her eyelids were still fluttering, her cheeks were red and it was obvious that she’d just enjoyed a wonderful climax but she wasn’t finished yet. She instructed Ryan to lie. As he reached for the tissue box, he watched her dip her finger into the pool of cum in her belly button, scooping up his jism onto two fingers. She brought them to her mouth and sucked her fingers clean, teasingly. Her belly still glistened with his cum, but the majority was gone now. Her fingers then wiped the cum off her left tit, bringing that to her mouth as well. Finally, she scooped the cum off her other breast, tasting as much of her brother as she could. Her pussy was tingling.
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