I love to hear her tell me about her fucking a guy with a 12" cock, 5" thick, and then making me clean her pussy and ass afterwards, although her cunt...is too stretched out to feel my 8 inch cock.She always tells me, she doesn’t keep me around for my little cock, and she loves my tongue and mouth action. The other night she had been drinking before one of her lovers came over and she was telling me that it turned her on to think about me sucking other man’s cock. She had her hand down in her. The tomb is built of granite, only half immersed into the earth, with small ventilation holes in its padlocked heavy and now rusted iron door, so she might have been heard had she still lived, but I have never met anyone who whispered that they had heard her themselves, only that they had heard the tale. I have always shunned that part of the garden, but then, I mostly stayed inside the house anyway, where it was cool, and safe, and quiet, and where I had my privacy. My father was gone most of. Literally, cumming continuously until I almost passed out. Sensing my mood is a gift for any man, and Dad had it. He knew precisely when to back off and hold me closely, and when to be forceful. This continued, for what seemed hours, as we would move from one oral position to another. I never will forget that moment when we were in a 69, with me on top of him, when I was so distracted by my cumming, I couldn't continue the blow job. I was powerless to do anything, and he moved me to just sit on. Because of that there was more detail about Chief Grissom and whether he was culpable than there was about the circumstances of Markow's death and everything else that went with it. He remembered a joke from back home in Glasgow along the same lines. The story went that in 1912 a Glasgow newspaper had carried the headline:GLASGOW MAN LOST AT SEAbut the story under the headline had actually been about the sinking of the Titanic with the loss of 1500 lives. Parochialism at its best.With.