My fingers certainly felt damp. I drew them up to see. A thin line spread, like webs in morning dew, between my thumb and forefinger. Just the knowled...e racketed up my need. I plunged two fingers past my underwear into the hot, swollen slit of my pussy, squeezing my eyes shut against my deceit. I rubbed fast at my clit behind its hood, rolling the little nub between my fingers.Nothing but the sounds of my panting and moaning filled the room. How could he deny me this, when I was never alone to. He was presently at his new mistress's home, leashed and kneeling by her bed, his wrists bound behind his back to prevent him masturbating; the jodhpurs having been laid out over the edge of the bed, crotch on display and eagerly sniffed by Baker. The scent tortured his cock and balls as he awaited the return of the woman - the woman who had also taken his seat at the golf club.Edwina Markham smiled through her severe looking glasses at her good friend and business associate Elaine, as she was. He had spent most of the night fucking his mom, Tina, in her tight little ass. Even at 17 years of age, Dave had proven himself to be a cock-smith, sending his mom to multiple orgasms with his superman-sized shaft. Tina was so excited seeing her daughter and husband lying together in bed, naked, that she could only imagine the wildly lustful night that must have transpired. She soon found her right hand perched between her legs, with her fingers stuck deep into her soaking-wet pussy, massaging. “I’m going to teach you a lesson that you won’t forget you little whore!”“COME ON OLD MAN, FUCK ME. FUCK ME GOOD YOU OLD SON OF A BITCH.”I pulled out and looked down at the pussy I had just violated. I spread her ass cheeks and put my finger into her asshole and pushed it in. “FUCK ME DADDY, FUCK MY ASS WITH YOUR FINGER” she yelled. I grabbed her by the hips again and once again I pushed my cock into her as hard and as fast as I could. “Take this you little cunt,” I said as I plowed her.“YEAH.
Read MoreI spent a lot of time in the library. It wasn't all about study. A lot of it was about Mrs G; the librarian. In 1985, I was 22 and Mrs G was about twe
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