Future FreedomRiders.Hank pointed to one photo, unlinked to the Gunther outlaw family tree -- “Otto Gunther. One of Greta’s cousins. Odd duck, doe...n’t seem to have any affiliation with the FreedomRiders. Wharton graduate. Stockbroker in Philadelphia.”Daddy said, “Uh oh.”Hank shook his head, “We’ve run him through all the filters. Seems clean. But we’ll keep an eye on him.”When Constance Grayson started a file, it was never something so boneheaded as putting a manila folder in a locked filing. We then drove to the airport where Dan handed his friend the keys thanking him for letting us stay there for a week. He knew that this friend would have no idea that we fucked on their couch or bed countless number of times. And he knew that both of us didn't care if his friend did notice that in the end it wouldn't matter at all what they thought.Dan then came back to the car and we drove back to house both of us still feeling quite horny for each other. We both knew that we would fuck back at. "OK Mr. Mystery Cock," Donna said, "I'm going to give you the blow job you never thought you'd get. You might scare off other women with this slab of meat, but not me. Your cock is going down my throat and your cum is going on my face. You ready?" The man moaned, his cock seeming to grow another inch, and pulled Donna's face closer to his prick. "Here goes you fucker." Donna's tongue lapped out, as she spit gobs of saliva over his cock head. She licked around the knob, taking little. I got my new nightie and left for the airport. I got there and talked to the pilot about where we were going. I barely had time to get into my nightie before Paul arrived. I had made all the reservations under the name of Mrs. Paul Peterson so the pilots kept calling me Mrs. Peterson. Every time one of them did I felt a hot flash of desire cross my body for Paul. I spent the next 30 minutes getting my makeup just right and my nightie on before Paul arrived. When Paul arrived, I was standing.