Chained To Desire

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Vern had met Ellen Lanning at the bar, but now they sat in a dimly lit booth in a comer of the large cafe. They sat very close, giggling as they sipped their third margarita and listened to the guitarist some twenty yards away. Vern found it hard to believe that this lovely, very square, young schoolteacher from Los Angeles had come to San Juan, Puerto Rico on her summer vacation with the idea of at last losing her virginity.

A practical business man, Vern did not believe in twenty-eight-year-old virgins. But that's what she'd confided to him, and somehow he believed her. His hand roamed freely up and down her leg beneath the table. He nibbled at her ear. "But why me?" he asked again, excited. He had never fucked a virgin before.

She sighed, pressing her breast against his shoulder. "I told you," she said. "It has to be someone, huh? And you just seem like-well, Mr. Right."

"Are you sure I'm Mr. Right?" he asked, boldly guiding her hand under the table to his swollen, aching hard-on that pressed so hard against his fly he thought it might break.

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