Do you want to get out, or go to London?” I looked at him, then at the driver's face waiting below the open door. “I'll go to London, Keith,” I ...aid. With that, the driver slammed the door shut and Keith stepped into a sunken well between the seats. With ease he removed his suit jacket, shirt and tie tack, then slipped out of his shoes and pants. He was not wearing underwear and, as his trousers came below his knees, I saw a hard cock of at least 7 inches, but unbelievably thick. Keith smiled. In a word: heaven. As I started to drift off to a well deserved sleep with black and white images of a solo Ginger Rogers singing and dancing ‘Heaven. I’m in heaven…’ (You’re asking where was Astaire, right? Well, it was my sleepiness that was causing this euphoria, not yours! If I wanted Fred to be with Ginger — and that was my prerogative — my sleepy state just had me focused on Ginger’s gams!), she asked, ‘Could we have dinner again tonight?’ Having had three extraordinary orgasms in her. More

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