Just a half hour before as I was grinding my cock deep into Debbie with hip swirls and pushing abandon. It was also within the hour that she had moaned those fateful words. “Do what ever you want to me.” Words that kept running through my head. Meanwhile, Cathy the bartender seemed to be looking at me with those same thoughts. These were my thoughts as I had my nightcap at Slammies. I was also remembering what Cathy looked like ten years earlier. Even now a striking woman, my memory of her splayed out in the back seat of my 1966 Pontiac Star Chief Executive as a twenty something college student was a fitting coup de grâce to one of my randiest evenings ever. Sure my dick was still moist with Debbie, but the sight of Cathy's ass in black spandex was reminding me of different days. Different women as well. I took the walk to the mens room in the back of the bar and I was brought back to a long ago encounter. It was a day or two ...