Still, blast after blast came, and I felt myself cum again just from the excitement of it all, and gave into the wanton lust with honest, undisguised ...bandon, and enjoyed the sleazy, open sluttiness of it all. And I felt the by now familiar sensation of hot, sticky wetness fill my bottom. After he came, I said out loud, “Well, that makes it official. I’m a real whore.” Fortunately, I spoke so softly he didn’t hear; besides, he was a little preoccupied at that point. I looked like a used whore. In my early teens, when I felt the first stirrings of sexuality, I found my mother’s store of sex toys hidden in a bedroom drawer, which was usually locked. She was out and I was prowling through her room when I came upon the unlocked drawer. I couldn’t then imagine the purpose of the various items, although now I well know what each was and have my own store of similar items. A much larger and more varied store than Mom’s. I was an early developing young woman. By the time I was f******n, I. "Fuu uu uck!" he moans. I move my head side to side. I feel him move in my throat. I ease him out of my throat to catch a much needed breath. I slid him in again. And again. And again.I take him out of my mouth. This is his favorite part. I hyperventilate. He scoots forward on the couch. I put my hands on his naked body. This is his cue. He grabs my hair in one hand while the other guides his cock in to my open mouth. He slides his big beauty deep in to my throat. With both hands gripping my. We left out some of the tawdry little details, but we made the Wallowa Lake trip sound as enjoyable as it was. Ginger was fascinated by the square dancing, and I suggested that she and Eric might want to come to our lessons. I explained that they're every Friday evening, and we usually attend to help beginners, so would love to take them. Eric expressed a little skepticism, as guys quite often do, but Ginger assured us that she'd convince him. She was concerned that they wouldn't know anything.