"As they were the same size she couldn't just force him to give it herand Abigail realised that she had to allow him to look at it for aminute or two....He could be very stubborn if she pushed him into acorner. The last thing she wanted was for him to run off with it or tothrow it into the bushes because she pressed the point. He was onlysitting there. It was perfectly safe. Or so she told herself.Sammie examined the pebble in his little stunted hands for a minutethen he said, "I want to try. His blue shirt and tan buckskin pants were covered in a thin coating of alkali from days of trekking up the Jornada del Muerto, a waterless waste of blistering sand and sagebrush. He wore a holstered pair of Colt .44-40s with the ivory butts pointed forward on two criss-crossed cartridge belts. Hanging from his pommel by a shoulder strap was a leather case. Inside was a Sharps .52 caliber buffalo rifle. The throat of his shirt was open underneath a yellow bandana, and the sleeves were rolled up. ” Patrick walked slowly over to Michelle, turned his back to her and grabbed his ankles. His ass was right in front of her. The crop struck his ass once, twice, three times for the three unlit candles. Patrick winced with each stroke biting his lip. After the third stroke, Michelle told him to finish lighting the candles and sit at her feet. She held the wine glass to his lips to give him a sip, as a sly smile crossed her lips. Patrick took a big gulp rather than a small sip. His mind was. She didn't need anymoreprompting; she opened her mouth and started on a blowjob the bald manwould never forget. Up and down on his rock-hard cock her mouth traveled, relishing everythrob she could feel with her tongue and lips. He moaned loudly as hecaressed her head. She loved it when her men caressed her head when shesucked cock. It excited her; drove her to give more pleasure. She wasn'tsure how close he was to cumming, but he was one of a rare breed of menwhose precum literally poured out.