The wheels of a giant 747 screeched onto the runway of JFK airport. The airplane taxied to terminal 21 and Mark Simmons left the airplane and tried to find the exit. This in a airport is easier said than done. He asked a porter and he was sent the correct way.
Mark Simmons was twenty-seven years old, he had brown hair and of a slightly stocky build. He wore a suit, but not a business suit, more of casual. In his hand was a single bag of luggage which contained his only possessions: clothes, money, a few books and a manuscript. He came from England and had won a national screenwriting contest for an British website. Now, Mark was trying his hand in America on the behalf of Mark's shortly deceased rich uncle.
He walked to the long term car park and looked for the registration that was written on a piece of paper for him. He quickly found it. An Aston Martin DB5, the same as James Bond's. Mark smiled at his new treasure and jumped in. He started the engine and headed for uptown New York.
When he arrived he was amazed of the changes since the last time he was there. Different shops, different theatres and more Starbucks.
Mark followed the directions on his piece of paper and stopped in a large car park and headed to a coffee shop where he was to meet his dead uncle's solicitor. Mark looked at the coffee shop logo on the window and the scrawls on his paper: "Central Perk". He entered the cafe.
He was too early. He knew that so he would wait for him in the cafe with a cup of coffee. He sat at a table and shortly a waiter came over. Mark said he's have a cup of coffee. The Italian waiter asked him what kind. Mark would have to get used to America. Back home he just had coffee. The first name in his head was "Expresso."
The waiter came back shortly with the drink, and Mark intended to wait for his solicitor. Five minutes went by when he noticed the most beautiful creature he had ever seen sitting on the long chair in the middle of the cafe. She had brown hair, beautiful eyes, and skin of golden brown. Mark noticed that her friends were sitting with her, also the waiter. One of them, a blonde women, noticed Mark staring and must have told the beautiful woman about him. She came over and said: "Hi"
Mark returned the compliment with: "Hello. I'm Mark Simmons. I'm sorry for staring, I just couldn't help myself." "I love your accent. Is it English?" she queried "Birmingham, middle of England" "Oh. My name is Racheal Green"
Mark and Racheal made small talk for a couple of minutes then Mark got her phone number. Mark's uncle's solicitor came soon after and they negotiated the will in the cafe. The Solicitor wanted to go elsewhere but Mark insisted on staying. Mark's uncle gave him his car (the Aston Martin), his large town house, However he did not get a large percentage of his cash. That went to his sister. Mark got enough to live on and that was fine by him.
Two days later, Mark rang Racheal and they organised a date that very night. The dinner was excellent, and so was Racheal. She wore a small tight fitting dress and high heels. Her skin was smooth and Mark suddenly decided she was the sexiest woman in the world. Their conversation soon became flirting and they soon became aroused. Their cab ride to Racheal's flat was hot and passionate. They kissed and fondle each other at the back of the yellow cab. They rushed up the stairs and burst straight into Racheal's flat.
Racheal pushed Mark onto the couch and in one swift move whipped off her dress. Just as Mark thought, she was wearing no underwear. He breasts were round and firm, her body was slim and her pussy was shaved into a thin line. Mark quickly took off his shirt and Racheal, kneeling before him, unzipped his trousers and took them off, eyeing him seductively. Mark wanting this woman so bad it hurt. Racheal slid off his boxers and with no hesitation engulfed Mark's already erect cock. Racheal went straight to the hilt and developed a steady rhythm. Mark gently placed his hand on Racheal's brown head of hair and guided her.
