“No,” I agreed, because it wasn’t; it was positively suicidal.“I—I have to go dismiss the class,” he said, looking up at the sky again. Hi... darkened eyes followed the direction of the storm clouds, headed straight our way.“Okay,” I said, uncrossing my ankles. I slid my legs back from his hips and reluctantly withdrew my fingers from his hair. He was gentle as he helped me down, a far cry from the man who had kissed me roughly against the wall just moments before.“Uh, here,” he said, bending. Sandra was such a classy lady, so beautiful, so hot and she had wanted him. He saw the wedding ring and wondered what her story was but wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Maybe a little remorseful about what he had done. His wife trusted him, his kids trusted him. Hell, even the dog trusted him. Swearing to himself again that he would never do that again, he pushed it to the back of his mind and shut off the shower. The same empty promise most traveling salesman make. After drying off, he got. " John said appreciatively."Right?" Rhonda agreed.Mary-Ann smiled coyly at the pair watching her, and wiggled her shoulders so that her breasts shook back and forth, bobbing and jiggling healthily. John's cock strained at its confines in his pants as he watched her impressive display. She sidled over to the pair on the couch, and held out her hands, one to each of them, and helped them to their feet. Both Rhonda and John clasped a hand over one of Mary-Ann's tits, causing her eyes to flutter. Nicolas, bishop of Myra in TurkeySweet Santa is me, who writes these verses for you two in EnglandSweet Santa is also Your dear Deb with her X-mas presents to You!--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Sweet Santa's bones are in a crypt in Bari, in Italy, but his believers are only in Holland, at firstSweet Santa is called 'Santa Claus' in English speaking countries, after the Dutch.