"No wonder Becky had scarfed that pizza and beer as if she were starved. I wondered what the food value of cum was and if there was any way to find ou...."Bobby, come to think of it, I was never really hungry either, not until I smelled the pizza. Then I was famished. Anyway, it was just Horse and me in the club. We talked and played gin rummy. I really do like Horse. If he were fifty years younger, I would be his mistress, his personal slut. Don't worry, Bobby. I'd never leave you for him or. " Miro looked down at Cathy as she lay with her legs held high and spread apart, her fat, wet cuntlips gaping. As he lowered his hips, directing his rigid tool to the beckoning slit he remembered how this little slut had squealed when the Dean skewered her with his mammoth cock. The memory sent a surge of obscene lust coursing through the young man's loins and he looked pridefully at his own organ. Not as thick as the Dean's but longer... and younger. He'd make this bitch regret that she'd. And the cellmate seems to be an okay guy. He didn’t go into detail about him, just said that they were getting along. I could see he felt better about things having somebody inside with him.”“Okay,” he said. “But there a ‘but’ in there somewhere I can hear it in your tone.”“He wants a picture?” she said.“Well, I thought you had one to give to him,” he said.“I did and I did. But he wants a picture of me. A good one showing how beautiful I am—his words. He wants to be able to brag to his fellow. I assumed he was the director, because he was the one signaling and ordering the others to place an oval-shaped, fluffy, gray rug and a crimson red futon on the middle of the stage, to re-arrange the lighting, and to clear the rest of the area of other stuff lying around, like boxes, chairs and cables. The man was taller than me, had the body of a professional wrestler, tanned skin, and sported a slick mustache. When I looked at his crotch, however, I realized that he was totally naked as.