. before that damn war changed everything.She'd felt so badly for her brave and apparently formerly athletic hero. "Gosh, Sledge, you were a World Cup...soccer star, even with your clubbed feet? How brave! That darn war!"Her face had been wet with tears, but it wasn't nearly as wet as her oh-so-gullible pussy.He'd just patted her on the head before draining his tiny nuts in her ear.Sledge didn't mind that Pollyanna was just too plum stupid to realize that a forty-year-old man in the year 2009. She went to reply, then her lips started to tremble, her eyes filled and she just let go, huge wailing sobs that at first embarrassed me, but then – almost against my will- made me feel for her. I sat down next to her, handed her my handkerchief and waited for her to stop crying and start talking. Eventually she did – and it was pretty much what I expected. She was so, SO, sorry, it was a stupid one-off mistake. It was dumb – SHE was dumb. Could I ever forgive her and so on and so forth. After. Pretend like you're back in the real world, doing a magazine shoot." It hadn't been that long since Jordan had done exactly what Clyda requested, so the routine quickly came back to her. Jordan posed and strutted and flaunted herself to Clyda for several minutes. Jordan showed off all of her body to Clyda, knowing just when to fondle and squeeze her boobs; both with her hands on the outside of her bikini, and also by pushing her arms together to display an impressive span of cleavage. With a. I realised that the pool-table was at an ideal height for fucking. I enjoy that position, but usually on the edge of the bed with the man kneeling, because his hands are free to work on my clit; the standing position definitely gives the man more thrusting power, and Billy was using it well, forcing a grunt from me with each stroke. His totally-erect young dick was pushing along my sensitive front wall and my head began to swim with pleasure – his big hard dick was really reaming more than I.