I had a free evening in my new town, so I decided to take the historic cemetery tour. When I arrived, I found the tour guide, a beautiful young man, in a frock coat and top hat lounged against the graveyard gate talking passionately with a small group of tourists.
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Caroline fidgeted in her seat. She could feel her skirt rumbled and raised under her ass, which made her wonder if her sexy flights of fancy were more than just flights, but there was no way they could be real, could they? She wondered.
Caroline opened the door, and the bells attached to it chimed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but the interior looked exactly as she expected. The fortune teller’s shop was dimly lit with lots of beaded curtains and the heavy scent of incense. A large shelf dominated the space. Caroline looked over the items, mostly crystals and candles. She raised a brow at candles shaped like cocks and vulvas.
“You must be Caroline” a man’s voice drifted over her.
Caroline jumped, tearing her eyes away from the sexual candles. She turned and was momentarily speechless. He wasn’t what she expected. He was young, maybe ten years younger than her 35. And he was, by almost any standards, hot. She snapped her mouth shut when she realized she was gaping at him. He was the image of tall, dark, and handsome.
“Um, hi. Yes, I’m Caroline” she fumbled over her words. She offered her hand, feeling lost in his dark eyes.