On Golden

On the Golden And she enters for him, evoking memories of the past. No, never before had he seen such a sexual glow from an old and graying woman, bowed from use or misuse, natural decaying as life must reserve surely for all; she, bent as if reachingdown for some enticing morsel or fallen treasure on the floor;still to his mind tasty as a working whore, past sixty if a day. Skin clear as a morning raindrop on a fading rose. Tits that did not appear to sag other than follow the natural conformation of the bending pose, and a very charming smile full of snow white teeth reveal no lack of confidence;nor sign of frontal cavity. Leering up at him from half turned facesilken voice advise, "You want methen as I you pay a price."