‘Can we call her Coochie?’ Jodie nearly spat out a laugh and had to turn her back to hide her mirth. Jake missed why she was laughing and asked, �...�As in Coochie coo?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Sure, why not?’ David laughed again, and scooped the kitten from his shoulder and flew her back in to the den like a petrified mewing airplane. ‘We can’t call her Coochie.’ ‘Why not?’ Jake’s brow crinkled up like his son’s. ‘It’ll get shortened to Cooch.’ ‘And?’ ‘Cooch means,’ she tried to think of a suitable synonym, ‘it. "Take my shirt off of me,” he commanded. His voice was raspy with lust.He raised his muscled arms and I pulled his shirt off as he simultaneously shirked his jeans off over his boots and kicked them aside. He stood before me nude, except for his jock and his brown leather work boots. He looked so incredibly hot and masculine, like a picture from one of those leather-daddy websites. His prominent man shaft and his hairless, softball-sized nuts protruded out in front of him. His big muscles. She faced him and smiled. Stand up babe. Stand up and fuck my mouth as hard and fast as you want. Dont stop until youve pumped every last drop of cum deep in my throat! Dean smiled as he stood, and twisted her hair in his hands to take a firm hold. She looked up expectantly, her lips parted in readiness as he slid forward. Her eyes closed as his dribbling cock touched her lips, and he slid easily into her warm, moist mouth. The head of his cock brushed the roof of her mouth, and he felt her. Why dont you measure Barbara nad see what size you make her. Barbara had her dress off so quick to show her tiny titties in her white brassierre along with matching deep suspender belt and knickers with tan FF nylons and high heels. Dont be shy Lynne said and handed Celia the tape, as Barbara unclasped her brassierre and handed it to Lynne. Celia fumbled but managed to lift Barbara's little titties and took the measurement as 34, then over the full bust, so that Lynne told her this made Barbara.