He arrived at the section containing the toilet paper and began scribbling notes. The family of eight used an obscene amount of toilet paper and he wa... attempting to lay in a year's supply. Forecasting what that meant was proving difficult because the kids had begun hoarding it in their rooms. Noting yet another acceleration in use (or at least procurement) he did a quick multiplication problem in the margin, grimaced at the result and made the note before continuing.At the end of the aisle he. "Just admit it, Monica, she eats pussy better than me, doesn't she?" Dwight asked, slowing down his thrusts too. "Fuck, maybe a little bit, but I love you, and I can't think of anyone I could ever love more. We're having sex with our son's English teacher. You're pounding her doggie style, bud." "Well, it is only fair, she does have a better lubed up pussy than you do, Monica." "That's fine, bastard, enjoy her drenched pussy while you can." "I love you, Monica." "I know, fucker," I added,. Her body was throbbing and trembling all over, sweat drenching her skin, her hair a tangled mass. Her head was low to the ground, cheek pressed to the ground, knuckles white as her fingers gouged deep furrows in the dirt. Her knees shook and almost gave out. Her lover showed no signs of stopping. She could feel something building up inside of her, a wave preparing to break, a force threatening to overflow. It would come soon. She ached for it harder than ever.But even as they both luxuriated in. What explanation could we use to explain why her pajamas were flung about the house, including her underwear? “It will be ok. Here let me take your mind off of it.” As she drops to her knees and grabs my growing cock. She runs her tongue around my head and kisses the tip. “Isn’t that better? I am sure they won’t even notice.” “O fuck. That feels so fucking good.” She cups my balls as she opens her mouth and takes half of my now throbbing cock massaging it with her lips and tongue. I grab her.