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The young woman had started to whimper, but in his depravity and lust, he didn't care; he was going to do as he pleased. Jonathan moved his body so that he was kneeling in between her legs. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her toward him, her butt resting on the slope of his knees, her pussy tilting towards him.
She attempted to push him off her and started to squirm away.
"STOP! Don't do that . . ." he shouted threateningly at the girl.
Confused and startled, the girl stopped struggling and lay quietly, submissively under him as he continued to use her body. Jonathan was getting close to orgasm, but he wasn't ready cum, so he pulled out to stop the sensation. He did this several times, working himself to the edge and pulling out except for his cockhead. After a while, he couldn't control it any longer, and with a loud, prolonged groan, he shot his hot load deep inside her as he drunkenly sang to himself, "Happy Birthday to me . . . Happy Birthday to me."
*****
Mr. Jonathan Timothy died at The Concordia Hotel, in bed, while having sex with his birthday present, a nineteen-year-old young woman.
He had just turned seventy-three.
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