.' She took both my hands and brought them to her chest. She squeezed my hands, in turn squeezing her own titties. Her voice became darker, more breat...y. 'You like that one?' She leaned over close to my ear and whispered as I kneaded her tits, 'I know we talked about this a few days ago, Mark, but I can't help it...I need to be with you. I feel like I'll die if I don't see it again...touch it again...right now...Do you feel it, too?' Her breath in my ear was finishing the job of stiffening my. I finished it and returned to Betty giving her a deep curtsey andannouncing I was done. She then had me get them each a glass of wine eventhough she knew I hated being around alcohol since I quit drinking some12 years ago. I did it anyway and brought them each a glass. Betty thentold me I could kneel beside her as the Ladies chatted. I quickly did soand just listened as they discussed me. They went into details about howI was going to regret ever screwing Betty over and that my new role washer. I love sucking cock.The feel of a man's hardness filling my mouth is one of the best pleasures of life. Some times I like it rough, to have him use my face, my only purpose an object for him to thrust into in order to orgasm. Other times I lovingly suck him, getting him to his full size before penetrating me. There is simply no limit to how many different ways I can enjoy sucking his cock, but I think my favourite is to tease, to worship, praising his manhood with my mouth and tongue making it. I had one friend in that house, Dad's Guatemalan housekeeper, Ysabela. Ysabela, of Indian ancestry, dark-eyed, plump, raven-haired, and speaker of excellent English. I hounded her for Spanish. I was taking it in school, and having her to converse with, I learned a lot that the class and the books didn't teach.Ysabela was far from uneducated. She was just the oldest of her sisters, and being in the States she could make enough money to live here as well as send money home and put back a bit of.