It was quite painful, however did not last long due to the warm pleasure of her mouth wrapped around my shaft. Let's get real, married blow jobs are t...e worst. I have to beg for one and when I get it, it's mostly licking and doesn't take long before she finished, not me. That was not the case with Melissa. Immediately she was nut deep sucking so hard I swear she made me an inch or two longer. I couldn't help trusting up while my dick slapped the back of her throat. I thought I was going to bust. . . fuck-friendly before he arrived. Oh well, she'd just have to make do. She was good at that. She hurried her pace. She arrived in the Mailroom minutes later. It was surprisingly large, and not-surprisingly littered with mail. A large, gray cubby-hole unit covered the entire west wall. Against the northern wall, copy and fax machines sat upon large folding tables, where even more mail was cluttered. A tan, dated computer hummed in one of the corners, the monitor displaying a bright. Then my phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin."Is this Walter?" the caller asked."It is," I said, hesitantly. "Who's this?" This is Derek. You answered our ad online."A sharp pain gripped my chest and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. I tried to ignore it and acted as casually as possible."Hey, Derek. How's it going?" Good," he responded. "I was just talking with my girl, Jasmine, and we might take you up on your offer." Great," I said. My heart beat so rapidly, I considered hanging. He was in a world of his own, mindlessly reciting scripture and making little mewing sounds as his member sank deeper and deeper into her honey pot. He became lost in his conquest, forgetting to be gentle, pumping and pumping her with increasing ardor and boldness until his fury and shame were released deep inside . . . her ass canal. Three evenings later, a mumbling Hiram Leffler was at the parlor door, satchel in hand, giving his halting good-byes to the Reverend Albin and doing everything he.