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I finally got to them and was trying my best to get the nipples hard when she reached down to my cock and found it hard as a rock. We both moaned out when she squeezed it and we agreed to move to the back of the van.Once back there we started kissing and caressing more till we had each other to the boiling point. I had her top of sucking on her nipples and my hand rubbing her pussy through her pants feeling the heat and moisture. I couldn’t take it any longer and told her I needed her lips on my cock and the next thing I know she was undoing my jeans and fishing out my cock.Let me describe myself here as I am by no means a jock type fitness person, I have a few extra pounds and bald headed and in my 50’s. My cock is not great but I think its only average, but she assures me it is NOT average. It’s about 7 ½ inches but when really excited it measures out to almost 8 inches but I am somewhat thick around and I am circumcised. She swears I know how to use it but the only thing I. *Orelius sighed. This battle was over. King Mithridates had won, and so it was time to go back to Rome. Legate Gaus Valerius Triarius had ordered the retreat and so slowly, his fellow romans began their withdrawal.How could this have happened? Mithridates had hit them unexpectedly the previous day, Legate Gaia Valerius Triatius has arrived promptly afterwards to lead them, and moods were high - they were the army of Rome after all.Orelius remembered the night before the battle. He and a few of his brothers had happened upon a small farm, filled with women and children. How stupid had the men of the house been to leave their women in the path of the great army?His brothers had chosen to violate the younger girls, but Orelius wasn’t a fan of young children. Instead he had his eyes on a nubile beauty that his brothers had passed over, a brunette peasant girl with small tits, a slim waist, full lips and a gorgeous face - green eyes that flared in rage at the soldier whose cock was forced.
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It started with subtle glances across the bar, discreet touches as we passed each other. Within weeks things had progressed nicely. He’d come to join me at the bar, stand with his hand caressing the small of my back, his other hand resting softly on my knee. He was never assuming and this intrigued me, he was so different to the guys I was used to. But still I continued to maintain my distance, always leaving before the end of the night, never saying goodbye, and yet week after week he’d be there. Until one night he wasn’t. I was devastated, and proceeded to drink far more than was sensible. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there, he was always there, nor was he in any of the other bars. Finally as the heavens opened and the rain poured down I stumbled home, feeling dejected and insecure. And there he was, standing in my doorway, waiting. He turned toward me as I walked toward him, and without speaking he pulled me to him, his lips finally finding mine as the rain soaked through.

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