J.T. has always been one to keep his word, and I would presume this to be no exception. He pulls back and looks at me with a very serious look on his ...ace. I am nervous. “Want to see something cool?” He grins. The relief was apparently evident on my face as he laughs a little. “What could you possibly show me that would be cool?” I look at him, one eyebrow raised, poking fun at him. Without a word, J.T. picked me up and practically threw me onto his back. I winced a little at the pain that shot. She was a cute little punk rock kind of girl with long pale legs extending under my dash and a tiny little body barely filling the seat. I admit I chose a place where I hoped to explore that body as I had been exploring her mind and personality online. We arrived in a hush, and the usual feelings of uncertainty crept into the air. When it’s new and exciting, every look and breath of wind seems to have meaning, and into this over laden stillness we plunged. I took a blanket from my car and we. He wasn’t aware the Frank McMillan has a place near Fairfax City. The directions take him off the main road, through a series of dirt roads and deep into a forested area. When the road finally comes to a dead end, a small cottage looms at the end with Frank’s car parked in the drive way.The uneasiness that Roger has had this entire trip fades quickly when he sees the car. He remains on guard though, just in case something is amiss. He parks alongside the vehicle and gets out of his. The wind is. Blood mainlined from his heart straight to the hardening core of cock. She touched his balls and he held his legs open wider. Breathing. Everything was blackness and the whisper of rushing breath. The chair might have been lifting off the floor, but he was tethered to the roiling, wet silence of her mouth. Her hand slipped from his balls to the side of his shaft, trapped now against the side of his leg as she sucked the tip with her cheek pressed against his thigh. There was a clumsiness to.