I can't think of anything else. I'm scared I'm going to suffocate.His big dick is drowning me. However, occasionally I manage a breath,"infff."But the... it is right back again to the forced exhales. I chokesometimes, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He is lost in desire, andjust keeps right on pounding my throat, "Mfff, mfff, mfff, mfff, mfff,mfff, mfff, mfff." Air goes out as his piston is driven down my throat,but little air comes in.I struggle, and sometimes the noise changed. I'd get a. Gramps told me once that he was 'quite a hellion' in his younger day, suggesting that she took off because of his roving eye (possibly meaning roving cock), but I can't be sure.What I can be sure of is that he does have a roving eye. I remember seeing but not understanding why he would stare at my nipples poking against my blouse back when I still wore undershirts. I remember seeing and yes, understanding, when I saw his eyes fixed on the tight asses of my friends when their backs were toward. His eyes closed and he let his mental image take over.The phone ringing startled him out of the daydream about her sucking his cock while he squeezed her tits. Giving his hard cock a final squeeze through his denim shorts, he leaned back and grabbed the phone off the bed. "Yello?" Do you really think you're being sneaky, Ron?"Ron bit off a curse as he nearly overbalanced and fell out of the chair. "Uhm — what, Miss Malone?" He hastily scooted his chair back and leaned up against the wall to. I tried not to listen their conversations but heard arousing stories which I usually brushed off. One of them was about a black bailiff named Andre. At 6'4" and 250lbs of pure body building muscle, he was the subject of much gossip among the girls in the office. I myself must admit had admired this man but never let it get it out of control always remembering my verse.Whenever Andre would stroll near the office the subject of interracial sex always came up with its popularity on the rise so.