I’m not that type.”“Of course you are, Bill. I know all about you and your wife, Sam. Christina tells me that Sam is quite the cum-drinking slut...” Bill gasped and blinked, trying to figure out what to do about this. “Now that we know all this, I should tell you that Christina received her initial mistress training from me. I am very good. I can make your life here much easier professionally, but I am afraid that I am going to have to demand that you be my slave. Now before you say another word,. Pattidirected me to one of the establishments suggested by Tanja & Tiffanyfrom the condo office. I parked and we walked over and into an oldbar/restaurant. The hostess, Laurie, took us over to a table near theback wall. Patti asked her what the bartender's name? She replied Ashleyand Patti turned and told me she would be right back, and walked over tothe bar. The bartender was a gorgeous red head with an award-winningsmile and full d-cup breasts! Patti leaned on the bar and asked Ashleysome. Cynthia: You remember.......Rachel: I never forgot.Cynthia: Neither did i. We had been dumped by those cheating punks Billy and Sid so we decided to have a girls night out and drown our emotional pain in alchohol.Rachel: We barely managed to get back in our dorm. Thankfully we weren't completely drunk. What they say about alchohol must be true. It really brings out our TRUE personalities and allows us to relax, drop our restrains and unleash our inner b**st.Cynthia: I could never go back to. Realizing he had been defeated, he decided he wanted to reward the victor with the best orgasm possible. So as Karen was sucking the sperm out of his cock, he returned his mouth to her clit, where he latched on and sucked on it for all he was worth. In combination with his fingers now scr****g the upper inside of her vagina, it set Karen off, and she rewarded Charles with a forceful shot of clear liquid down his mouth as she came, screaming on Charles' cock which was still lodged in her.
Read MoreRita lay back in the armchair with her legs open, waiting for the throbbing knob -- which was advertising itself, like a tent pole, in my boxer shorts
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