He pounced: "How does he introduce me, Ann? Let's see,,,oh yeah, I got it: "And Ann's power mower, (paramour) Donald Hollinger, a beat writer for a gr...at metropolitan newspaper."She used to have to stifle a laugh at such introduction, no more, it had been a while. And he wouldn't stop, no matter how many times she'd approach him, appeal to him: "Daddy, please." He wouldn't even look at her."He's a comic by trade, Donald. It's his craft, his way, his life." Also his way to question my ability to. I can hear my pussy squishes as I keep fingering my pussy. My tits are jiggling under me as I feels my feet weakens. My fantasy becomes wilder. I tried to fantasize my husband with that cock, but the reality keep kicking in. I shake my head off and replace him with another man. A young hung teen that is muscular. His hands on my waist, he spank my ass hard as he fuck me savagely. “Ahh ahhh yess!!” I moans softly. My fingers echoed the rhythm of the fantasy young teen in my head pushing me more. He supposed that was true of most males. But it eventually dawned on him that big tits were great mainly because you could see them on the street. Big tits were overtly sexy. Big tits were loud. Big tits were like billboards.Stacy's perfectly shaped B-cup mounds were more like the Mona Lisa. You wouldn't look twice at Stacy if you passed her on the street but on the street wasn't where breasts were meant to be worshipped. In the bedroom, they were the stuff to inspire entire religions.The upper. ’ Her laughter tinkled softly through the cell phone. He wished he could think of something witty to say so she would laugh like that again… wait… her friend Lee? ‘Hey, Blue?’ A masculine voice came over the line, sounding like it was coming from another room, but strong enough to hear. ‘Got any rum? Eggnog is supposed to have rum in it, right?’ A shuffling sound, and then Blue responded to the voice, her own muffled as if she had put her hand over the receiver. ‘Sorry Lee. All I’ve got is.