The glow, gone. Mr. Berkowitz spoke closer to a whisper, his voice full of regret, ‘I’m sorry, Ann. My family…’ ‘What about mine, Jerry?! Wh...t about Michael’s?!’ Mr. Berkowitz had to avert his eyes as she stopped and glared, acerbic and malicious. A glare that could cut down the strongest of men and the weak jeweler was no match. But she knew it was useless. ‘Just get out.’ ‘Ann, I’m…’ ‘Just get the fuck out of my house.’ As it turned out, Mr. Berkowitz had asked my father to steal the. I got her legs up in my hands and pushed all I had in her. when it bottomed out, I could feel the bones of her thin pelvis hit mine. That did not feel bad. I could feel the head of my cock hit the depth of her. She did not seem to be bothered or hut, but I knew i could not slam her to hard or i might hurt her. So I back out and kept my cock in the tightest area. and she loved it. She seemed ot be coming little short ones and I could feel her getting a bit dry and very tight. So I went slow. The corridor ended in a wider space with a large staircase.At the third door along stood a busty girl in a skimpy maids uniform, She smiled at the approaching couple and curtsied.“Milord, Milady you luncheon is ready.” She told them as she straightened up.“Marek, where in hell did she come from!” Heather hissed at him, “And where did that uniform come from?”Marek blushed and leant over to whisper in her ear.“I imagined her along with the other household servants. Sorry about the uniform, uh,. Then the chant began, from a whisper, “Fuckmeat… Fuckmeat… Fuckmeat…” the chant grew louder and louder, as the girls were pounded harder and harder. Cartlton, Joey, Mario, all of the men, even those up to the balls in arse,“Fuckmeat… Fuckmeat… FUCKMEAT!”The chant rose to a crescendo as the six men pulled out and jerked off over quivering buttocks. As they released hair (or hips) and sprayed their loads, the chant became a wordless cheer of masculinity. The guys who needed to piss still stood.