Maybe I could put an ad in the paper. 'My cellphone is up my twat. Call me.' And then the number. But then I would have to keep it inside all the time... And maybe some idiot calls me at six in the morning! Yikes! Would have to specify a time. 'Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 6 to 8 pm.' Or I could post it on one of those pages in the internet. That would get an instant response. It gives a completely new meaning to the term 'phone sex', doesn't it?Gosh, that bitch is really going to town in. With another couple days of observation we’ll be able to figure out who is who and where they go.”Dan said, “I want to get a picture of the big boss, but not from our hunting stand.”“Why not?” Calvin asked.“Well, we’re going to use the pictures to address a couple of envelopes to specific gang members. If we take it from our hunting stand then they’ll know where we are,” Dan said.“How are you going to deliver them?” Hank asked.“One of those little kids will deliver them for us. I figure five. I always regretted . . . say, you aren’t still wearing those luscious stockings—and a garter belt—are you?’ Katherine blushed. ‘Remember how we—?’ ‘Yes, I remember,’ Katherine said. She felt herself go all warm. She was glad she’d made the effort to wear them today. She wondered how far away his hotel room was—or if, perhaps, he’d already made other arrangements. Perhaps he had anticipated there would be more than coffee. He always was a cocky son of a gun. But he’d satisfied her, in his own. I understand, that, baby, very much. I’ve felt that way for years. I can’t get enough, either.”“Suck me, Mother,” Josee replied.“Ohhhh, please, eat my cunt, mommy!”Josee arched her pussy, grinding it into her mother’s mouth as she held her face with her hands.Pam opened her lips, then pressed them at the fiery lips of her daughter’s cunt. She sucked hard, tasting the juices of Josee’s cunt. She moved her tongue along the girl’s puffy cuntlips, licking at them, whimpering with pleasure. She.