"Maybe you kin do better wifout that," she said. "Hole on to Jenny and squat. We should'a rigged a rope f'you. Dat young Mr. Cochran over dere 'cross ...he river, mebbe he the daddy? You done went over dere, spent time wif him, week or so." No, I pushed 'im off, wouldn't let 'im near me. It's Andrew's sprat. Oh God, Jenny! Jenny!" How 'bout dis Mattfew. I hear tell you sweet on him," Miranda said with a conspiratorial smile as she felt for the baby's warm and greasy head."No! Wait, 'ow did you -. You see, I wanted to ask you out, but I thought myfriends were rail on me, so I made up a bet with them. They didn't thinkI would ask you out, but I really wanted to. I think you look reallypretty and the girls you had lunch with this week said you were reallynice and serious about dressing as a girl and winning the pageant, andthat you would make any boy happy. I don't care about any silly bet. Iwanted to meet you. Ok. So anyway, come on."Jack held out his hand to me.I looked at it, and then. He wipes his spit on his cock and masturbates some more. I ask him why he spit in his hand. He tells me the spit acts like a lubricant and makes masturbating more enjoyable. I spit in my masturbation hand and wipe my spit on my cock. Coach H was right. The spit did help with the masturbation. After several more minutes Coach H asks if I have ever had another man masturbate me before. “No” I tell him. “Would you like me to masturbate you” Coach H asks me. “Sure go ahead” I tell him. . Then she felt one hand drift down her shaft, stroking lower and lower until she felt it cup her balls. She felt them rolled around in one hand as she felt her tip almost burning from the stimulation, her groin tightening up as she approached the point of no return. She felt each of her balls being squeezed firmly before she felt a finger slide into her ass and rub her prostate just as it felt as if a feather was tickling her tip all over, leaving her a writhing, panting, sweating mess on the.