" Jill looked down, slightly disappointed or maybe disturbed. "Your... friend, eh? umm... I'll try. It depends on what he wants..." "You can do it, Ji...l. Just text this number. It'll be ok" He looked into her eyes reassuringly.When Jill got home that night, she texted the number. Their conversation was something like this: Jill: umm... Mr. Moore told me to text this number... so hi. what's your name? Friend: You can call me Hunter. Jill: wow... interesting name... where'd you pick up the name. You got some kind of devil in you boy.” My other hand had found her crotch and I was rubbing four of my fingers against her heated slit. I could feel her panties starting to soak, even through the rayon like material.Her breath was beginning to get hoarse and her breathing was becoming audible. I considered pulling one of her huge tits free from the v-neck of her frock. I stuck my head out in the hallway to make sure the coast was clear all the while continuing my attempted ravaging of Etta. I had no male refractory period left at all by now. I fucked anyone who struck my fancy, men and women alike, and even let them penetrate me as well. My ego wasn’t so fragile as to view that as being “weak” or “effeminate.” I did whatever pleased me, plain and simple.I also enjoyed watching the former President get it on with Evelyn Howard a few times, including once after I spilled my load inside her. He took my sloppy seconds without complaint. It was clear that he was hooked on his. I was pleased to feel him wasting no time in kissing me back. Everywhere he touched, my body was on fire. I started roaming my hands up his shirt to feel his taut muscles. He grabbed my hands and without breaking our kiss he lifted me up on the counter in front of him. With him in between my legs I couldn’t help but to feel moisture gather and a warm pressure build inside me. His lips were demanding, he broke the kiss only to nip at my bottom lip and travel down to my neck. I grabbed the hair.