Zero.But that was okay because Sunday was real football Sunday. Between thenon-stop coverage on the football network and the more outlandish pre-game,...mid-game, and post-game coverage on the other networks, there wasmuch for the guys to watch and talk about.From a gender perspective, it was completely explicable that the guys didnot call their girlfriends during football. Indeed, Biff et al wouldrather be watching football on Sunday than doing anything else. Thatincluded, arguably, hanging out. It was so long I could use one hand to keep the skin back, squeezing it near his ball sack while sliding the other up and down what was left and making him gasp as the end went nearly black and he just managed to tell me, between gasps that it was his bell-end, begging me again and again to suck on it. As it started to twitch and jump in my hands he made one last plea for me to suck on him, I pretending not to here, knowing it was time for him as he moaned and gasped and thick white creamy. Finally Jill managed to tangle her fingers in his hair and yank his obscenely dripping face up from between her cringing thighs. For just that one moment his iron grip on her loosened and she twisted free and rolled heavily to the floor. The outraged young blonde was on her feet in an instant, looking down at her confused husband."You ... you filthy animal!" she screamed. "How could you? How could you turn it into that?" Then she saw the anger beginning to build in his eyes and she ran into the. He slowly kissed around my pussy. Sucking and nibbling on the lips. I would be moaning at this point, my pussy getting wetter with each passing moment. He knew how to tease me, he knew to avoid giving me what I wanted so I would beg. I tried to hold out, I didnt moan as loud as I really felt I wanted to, I had to be resistant to him or he would have all the control. All of a sudden I felt his tongue slipping more and more closely to my clit. I couldnt take it anymore and I screamed, eat my.