Maid in Morocco

I had to bring the car to work last week, so I took the opportunity to venture out to the western ‘burbs to surprise an old friend (D) that I first got to know in an outer-eastern suburban parlour back in ‘07.

On the 1st intro. to D, there just didn’t seem to be a spark to attract me, but on a subsequent visit, having won 3rd prize in the weekly door raffle, I selected D for my “French Maid” fantasy prize.  In the bedroom, I quickly discovered the spark that I hadn’t seen previously and D certainly dusted off some of my cobwebs with her feather duster.  We found we similar senses of humour and D had a really wicked fun streak.

Image 'dreamstime.com'

Over the next couple of years we became regulars, shared a little about our lives and became very relaxed and comfortable in each other’s pleasure.  It was D that really developed my taste for “Linctus” and coined my nick-name of “Thomas the Tongue Engine”.  And it was with D that I first (despite 35 years of marriage) enjoyed having a lady riding me with ecstacic abandon for her own satisfaction.

It was a real pleasure to walk in and to see her face light up on seeing me then run down the corridor, throw her arms around me and kiss.  On more than one occasion she expressed pleasure in our times together after a “shitty” day, often running well over our allotted time.

D is one of those people that is totally comfortable in her body, with the light olive skin of her French-Moroccan heritage and beautifully toned curves belying her two young teenage children.  It was a delight just to stand and admire her beauty as she went around remaking the bed at the end of our times, butt naked.

Then one day in the middle of 2009, she was gone and of course the parlour staff couldn’t give out contact details.  We hadn’t exchanged numbers so we lost contact. Then a year later by way of the internet forums, I discovered her working in the western suburbs.  It was well out of my way and I would have to make special arrangements to drive to work since it was a 30 minute drive from work for a “Long lunch”.  We caught up once last year and exchanged phone numbers this time.

Then I got a message to say she had moved to another parlour out west.  And thus we come to our most recent reunion.  And a wonderful time it was too, taking up exactly where we had left off, just as if it was last week.

Thanks again D - I will carry happy memories of our times for the rest of my life. All the best in your classes, the upcoming competitions and potential new career. Happy birthday for last month, and I look forward to future “reunions”.