You know, it's funny. You're the therapist. What if you parse the word?' 'Uh? What?' 'Parse it.' 'I know what parse means, but it...doesn't apply.' 'Sure it does, you dumb cunt, break it down.' 'Therapist.?' 'Spell it.' 'T..h..e..' 'Stop.' 'T..h..e.? 'OK, now finish, like separate.' 'R..a..p..i..s..t.' She gave me the most anguished look. 'Now isn't that rich, the way it breaks down. The way it runs out.' I. I ask you to strip for me, your body impatient you tear off your clothes then lung at me, I back off and ask you to lay down on the rug on your back.. You do so your cock now standing tall and proud and throbbing. I reach out and take the can of whipped cream and squirt a trail down your torso around the base of your cock and down each leg, I then arrange the strawberries now dipped in wine along the cream. I begin at your feet licking, sucking eating my way up each leg one at a time, I then. She knows how to put on a subtle but arousing show with her red lips and nails, all the while seeming not to notice she’s turning me on. Tonight it was a little less subtle than usual. When we finished with dinner and had paid the bill, she looked at her watch. ‘If we leave now we’ll get home before the kids are asleep. What would you like to do?’ ‘Well, obviously we can’t have that.’ ‘Obviously.’ ‘You could masturbate for me.’ After slightly choking on her drink, ‘oh’ was all she could manage. Mary Ellen's gig was both, but it was dangerous and not something I could do on a moment's notice.I had no idea I had an interest in fishing until I met Horace. Horace was the man in Warren for all things fishing. First of all he bought and sold fishing rods. He had quite an assortment of rods both new and used. The came with and without reels. Horace sold the tackle that made the rods usable instantly. Oh yeah, one other thing, Horace also sold bait. He was there for all things fishing, I'm.