Would Missy show up, or was she disgusted with the way I'd acted at dinner? At midnight, I gave up and went to bed.The next morning Missy met me at the back door with the usual coffee and muffin. "I couldn't get away last night," she said, apologetically."That's okay. There's always tonight," I said, hopeful that she would come to the cottage.She grinned, and I was almost sure that meant she was looking forward to our night together as much as me.Mrs. Tucker came out of the house alone. I opened the passenger's door, but she pointed to the back seat. I had to close the door I was holding open and open the one she'd indicated. We rode the short distance to work in silence, and when we got there, she jumped out of the car and ran up the stairs. I followed, admiring the way her ass swayed from side to side."What's wrong with Mrs. T this morning?" Trudy whispered."I would be speculating if I hazard a guess," I whispered back, refusing to say more.We went about our work. She quizzed me on. ...........cuuuuuum...IN............................... ME ...............................NOWWWWWWWWWWW." Sheimpaled herself onto my thick ten inch pole and stopped as I exploded my wad intoher uterus and gave forth my own utterances of pleasure. Our combined juices wereof such volume that they squirted from her pussy lips like a broken pipe of hot steamycream and coated us with them before running onto the rock we were on. Shecollapsed onto me panting, we both lay there quivering from the excited orgasm wehad together, my cock still inside her heavenly canal. We rested for about twenty minutes, listening to the cyclists ride over the bridge above, giggled at their ignorance of how nice this little stream was, well for us anyway. Wewent to the water's edge, washed away the stickiness in the seemingly cold water andredressed to continue our journey to the end of the ride for day four of the tour. As we neared the camp site for that night, she said "we may not get to ride.
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