He started to lap at my 'fountain' as my widespread knees stretched my vaginal lips open, allowing him to reach every micro-millimeter of my cunt. His...long tongue licking me, he worked it inside my inner folds and his nose bumped and mashed my clit. My thighs automatically widened and I gripped him softly by his ears. "Yes boy. Yes Domino, good dog! My dog fucking cunt loves what you're doing, boy!" I hummed softly as my left hand folded around the base of Jean-Claude's growing penis. Gripping. Two boatloads of drunken fishermen motored by, then by again, honking and whistling, but I took Brenda's lead and just ignored them. The afternoon turned drowsy, and we both dozed a little, only to be startled rudely awake by the crash of thunder very close by. Neither of us had noticed the skies turn cloudy, and now the heavens opened up and it poured. Grabbing our towels, we fled into the boathouse, but we were both thoroughly soaked, water shimmering and droplets running rapidly down our. But he’s more than twice as thick as I am. Thick, not fat. He’s made of hard muscle, strong too. Which helps when you take a crowbar to recalcitrant plaster.Gene’s hair is snow white, worn in the same buzz cut they gave him in the Army.Looking across our dinner table at his daughter, Cathy, I could see some of Gene in her. A good, strong face, determined chin. Other than her thin, mousy brown hair, Cathy was a good looking girl. High school senior, 17, accepted at Michigan.She had been Walker’s. He looks back at Mitzi.“I thought you were out,” he says.“What?” I say.“We’ll just put these items back,” Mitzi says.She ducks into the shed, deposits the tools she is holding, trots back out and plucks the ladder from my grasp as if it weighs nothing.“What about your ‘emergency’?” the man says, his voice even quieter now.“We’ll just plug it with a duvet,” I say.“Fuck this,” the man says. “I’m calling the police.”He pulls a mobile from his trouser pocket and the screen lights his face. It’s a.