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Someone you wouldn't expect

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Someone you wouldn't expect by VolcanoIt had taken him quite a while to arrange time when he wouldn't be disturbed. So many demands on his time! And so few opportunities to make himself unavailable! Well, here was one. He had locked the door, closed the window and disconnected the phone. He had told his employees he was not to be disturbed. Now he lay down upon the bed in the little room that adjoined his office (he was wedded to his job and had no opportunity for more human attachments). Now he reflected upon the young lady he had seen in the street just the other day. No doubt one of the many English tourists that flitted through his country on an almost daily basis, but far more neatly presented than the average T-shirted, shorts-wearing sandshoe-bearing, backpacking lot. And far better grist for the mill of his vice. Was it a vice? He considered. No, he didn't think so. Despite all the warnings he'd been afflicted with, he'd been doing this for fifty long years and nothing terrible had been visited upon him yet. He fumbled with his zipper, his hand momentarily caressing the bulge that was growing in his trousers. He thought of her attractive face, her long reddish-brown hair reaching down her back and falling over her shoulders, her breasts... aah, her breasts! His bulge, freed from the restraints of clothing, revealed itself as a firm, seven inch penis. Such a masterful instrument, and yet not at its fulness! Nay, for he knew that if his imagination was vivid enough, it would be longer still, and far harder than it was now! He imagined those breasts again, his hand teasing the shaft and running over the foreskin, fidgeting it against the glans, making it think that it was being enveloped by soft female flesh. And he knew that her flesh would be soft. She looked it; soft, yet not flabby and certainly not fat. Not for some time had he sampled with his eyes the delights that lay between a woman's legs, but his memory was long and his mind - even if old - could still fill in the gaps which clothes did their best to cover. She had a lovely flat stomach, covered with beautiful, pale (yet healthily pink) skin, and if experience served him correctly, it would taper down to a mound of thick brown hair. Behind this lay something very precious to mankind. He imagined the well-shaped thighs that ran down from here, and the shapely buttocks to which they must be attached, and the movements of his fingers became faster. He could feel himself becoming very rigid now; far more than he'd ever been before, and his left hand strayed to a strategically placed handkerchief, for he knew that he was going to produce a substantial amount of the Elixir of Life. It wasn't at the unavoidable level yet, but he knew it would be there very soon. He allowed himself to slow down a little, fondling his testicles slightly aimlessly, as he imagined what she'd look like in her complete nakedness. It was a gorgeous concept that formed in his mind, and he got ready for the explosion, knowing that as soon as he imagined those legs spreading, as soon as that mound of hair spread apart to invite his manhood to approach, as soon as she beckoned in his mind's eye, it would happen. Release would occur. He wondered occasionally what his associates thought, and reminded himself that if they thought it was unnatural they were almost certainly hypocrites. Many of them, in positions of power, had committed terrible indiscretions and his wrath had been incredible. He controlled his desires with his imagination, spending himself in private, alone, so that he wouldn't be tempted to humiliate himself by forcing himself on others. One day when he was tired of this job, he would make his dreams an actuality, he told himself, and use it as an opportunity to enjoy a private life before he died. Until then, he figured, his fingers would continue to run up and down his shaft, at least three times a week and often more, the rushed ejaculations into the toilet not really counting for much... but this was not rushed. Many minutes spent in beautiful contemplation, and now the moment was at hand. His right hand was almost frenzied on the end of his nine inch rod, and in his mind as the legs of his beauty opened and his body eased down upon hers, as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her eager nakedness to him, so did the floodgates open. It was the same every time, and yet never boring because of it, as the sperm exploded out of his dick like an express train out of a tunnel, to be caught and secreted away until he could stoke the fire in his open fireplace and surreptitiously burn the offending handkerchief. Oh God, this had been the best time in a long time! He knew the image of her lovely body would remain with him for some time, and he need make no move to seek new inspiration this week. There was a knock on the door. Hastily, he wiped the end of his member and flung the handkerchief beneath his bed. "Yes?" "Your Holiness, it is time for the morning service." "Yes, yes, of course; I was just coming now."

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