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I was pleased to learn of her musical talent because I play and can read music. My Mother saw to that. My piano lesson started when I was four, and gradually tapered off when I was twelve when I took up for football, and I enrolled in Mixed Martial Arts. My father saw to that. At sixteen I discovered girls, and amateur then it was girls and football, and the martial arts, provided I did well academically, but I digress. I learned Mary attends book club discussion groups at the Swan Library twice a week. Besides Music, Mary also is into antiques, flea markets, and community theatre. A week before Christmas, on a Friday, I greeted indian her at my mailbox and gave her a sealed red envelope. The envelope contained a Christmas card and photos of her dumping the trash bag. The following Saturday evening at around six, Mary appeared at my front door and said, “Mr. Stone, we need to talk.” I invited her in and asked her to sit down at the kitchen table. She took off her long puffy teal green down coat, hand-knit red hat, and sat down. She was wearing a baggy white cable knit sweater, and baggy faded blue jeans and pink moon boots. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but then I never saw her wearing makeup, and truthfully, she is beautiful with or without it. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have a man in her life, or perhaps not. Mary’s styled her hair in a single three strand braid down her back. It ended at the bottom of her pert ass. The braid was very thick although it tapered almost to a point the last six inches. I wondered what she would look like with bangs. I offered her a cup of coffee or tea, and she declined. I sat down with my coffee, asian took a sip, and said, “I have you dead to rights, Mary, and I’m not interested in your reasons or excuses. You know the consequences.” I slid a green envelope on the table and said, “I’ve written down my proposal. It was the younger man from before. In fact let's try that out!". Her mouth was covered in the siliva of the blowjob she was performing. She was totally comfortable with the idea now. Only when he was closer he realized he was hearing female moans. ‘Do you want me to fuck you?’ She turned around again and removed each boot, one after the other. “Baby, what do you mean?” Hank asked. She amateur unlooped the straps knotted behind her neck over her head and let the dress slide off her, asian stepping out of it and draping it across the desk over her purse. She leans forward and puts her hands on my shoulder for support. Now, you can see why I had you sign that paper before I told you what this was about, and as you can imagine there would be huge ramifications for myself if something like this were to get out in the media.” “Just a pussy-loving dyke. It's me "it's me Mrs Byrne" I said again with a smile " It's Jay, Mrs Byrne" She started to tell me about all the fancy jets and sprays and other indian gizmos and gadgets. I fought to keep my hands from instinctively moving straight down to my cunt, which felt painfully empty. All went well with that plan until the magnetic pull of her naked breast lured his mouth to her magnificent hard nipples.