Widow. Her daughter was killed about twelve years ago. Owns a farm out past route 57. Nikki went out there to interview her.”“How long ago?” ask...d Linda.“Almost three hours. She should have been back by now - at least have called in.”“Okay, get the timings woman on the phone. Let me see what’s going on.”In moments Shelia handed the phone to Linda.“Mrs. Timmings?”“Yes, Sheriff Raintree, what can I do for you?”“One of my deputies, Nikki Sanchez, was scheduled to interview you earlier this. Someone pushed gently down on her shoulders, and she knew she was supposed to kneel. Suddenly the camera lights brightened, trained on her, and then every guy in the circle unzipped their pants to reveal erect or semi-erect cocks, and started jerking off.It wasn’t more than 30 seconds before the first spray of cum occurred, landing on Sam’s shoulder and neck. Unable to hide it, she smiled at the guy who blew his load way early, his look of ecstasy and embarrassment was too funny. Opening her. I'll take it. And if she doesn't like it she can come in with me and we can exchange it for the other dress. Can you hold that for a couple of days just in case, so it's not sold?" "Yes we can, and I'd be happy to do that." "Great, you sure made my day." "Your welcome sir." She paused as she rang up the damages. "That will be $212.52 sir." He handed her $220 and received the change. He took the dress out to the car and proceeded to make his way home. As he was driving past the K-Mart he decided. His cock slipped out and I could hear him breathing heavily."Make lunch," he said while releasing me.Walking felt weird with that object in my butt."What do you want, Master?" Lunch."That wasn't helpful. I could just make a sandwich but it didn't seem very special. I looked around and found hot dogs. I wouldn't say it was special but it was cooked. I just had to heat them up. I found buns in the cabinet.While I prepped lunch, he startled me by coming up behind me and grabbing the part of the.
Read More“Who’s my good girl?” he demanded. “I am!” I moaned. “Who’s my bad girl?” he growled. “I am,” I whimpered. Over and over came the
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