It wasn't the Bellagio or the Phoenician, but it had some fond memories attached to the motel.Architecturally, Ely hadn't changed. It was still ugly. ...ut as I'd learned during my short tenure as John Windom, a town's architecture doesn't matter. What matters are the men, women, and children occupying a town.Armed with my freelance journalist business cards, I drove to White Pine High School. The emotional force of the nostalgia that struck me as I entered the school made my knees wobble. I. “Ten and a half inches,” Mike murmurs as he strokes his erection for me and my man, who strokes his erection in sync at the same time.“I am going to fuck you from behind, just like I promised. A huge extra turn on for me, fucking you while I watch you blow a cock bigger than mine,” my man tells me fully in charge of the situation.“Have you ever had a blow job from a cougar with her heels on, Mike?,” I ask as I take his erection in my hand. My man is laying behind me grasping my ass cheeks as he. He reached her hairy joining, where she was so awash with oils she felt on fire, and then he began to teach her how to play this instrument as well. She had heard Mozart and Beethoven but neither of them could make this music! Glissades of pleasure poured through her arms and legs as he stroked between her legs. Bass drums pounded when he touched one special spot. She wrapped her arms around him, burrowed her head against him, and sang out her part of the melody. ‘Jesus, the crew will hear!’. She can't really go out therewith him, so I guess I'm back in, haha." Oh, okay. Cool.~~~~~It was prom night. As Mike, I'd bought two tickets; one for myself, and onefor Maya as my guest. Of course, all I needed was Maya's ticket. Michellemade me look exquisite; my skin a perfect alabaster, my blue to purple eye-shadow perfectly accentuating my bright eyes, my lashes, thick, andluxurious, my brows, plucked to arched perfection. My lips were a perfectheart. My sandy blonde hair, styled in perfect.