I always enjoy massage parlors, dirty book stores, any of those places that have the wonder of what exactly is it beyond the Green Door.

There's this adult book store off the highway going up this mountain grade. I pass it before and this time, I pull in.

I walk into the store and it's your usual assortment of plywood assembled shelves with VHS porn tapes. It's the 80's. yah' know. Well, I'm browsing and then grabbing my body and turning me around is Robin.

"Terry!" she exclaims in her fun Miss Piggiesque seductive tone. 

I'm gobsmacked. Here was one of my massage girls of my past. Built like the proverbial brick shithouse she's 5 '2, huge DDs, and a blonde tress wig that brushes her shoulders. We always have great sessions at our old parlor on the line between our states. I remember her in this robe in our first session. It's open showing her canyonesque cleavage.

I walk toward her buck naked my erection pointing at her like a fixed bayonet. She wrapped her hand around it like gripping a tennis racket and purred, "Is this for meee!" We were pretty regular for quite a while. But It's been quite awhile. And here she was in front of me.

She says, "I'm so glad to see you."

And just pulls me off the bookstore floor to the back rooms of the joint. It's a stark setting, barren room with a massage height table in the middle. I don't really see much more as she was my total focus now opening the buttons of my button down shirt as she stood with her ass on the edge of the end of the table.

She says," This IS what your here for?"

I am still gobsmacked, I think I just nod and grunt.

She lies back on the table, my pants and shirt now on the floor.

It's all like a strange abduction.. I am climbing up on the table between her legs my dick slips in her moist folds in one just continuous motion her robe dropping to the bedside around her. My body on hers I start a steady missionary fuck. She feels good, I'm rock hard gliding in and out of her familiar folds my thrusting pace is firm and moderately fast. The pro she is; she knows from my respiration, hardness and excitement that my unsheathed pecker may burst.

And this is where this whole bazaar encounter reaches a cosmic moment.

She turns her mouth close to my ear and says lustily, "Terreee, don't cum inside me."

I knew myself, my balls had that familiar feeling of mixing a load and the climb beginning in that all to well known ejaculatorly manner. Before the sound of her comments faded I stop thrusting to comply with her wishes, hopefully extending our intercourse.

Then, I feel her pussy rhythmically squeeze and release my member. A velvet gloved oscillation that is embedded in my soul restarted my bubbling tide and my cock burst deep inside her womb spurt after spurt after spurt.

I lie there on her spent. She doesn't want me to cum? Yet empties my sack inside her herself. We get dressed gabbed about stuff like we do and bid each other farewell. I don't question what happened. I don't pay for this. But I smile all the way home.