. everybody did ... I started taking orders."Burned to a crisp?" I asked. Since I'm a guy, I was expecting at least two not guys to raise a hand for d...stroyed beef.I got one response ... the biggest, burliest, baddest looking biker-type dude I ever saw said, "Crispy, please. And make it a small one."I picked up a half-pounder with the tongs ... never perforate ... and got a, "Too big." I fumbled around on the platter and snatched up the small flank steak I had planned on cooking for the little. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t It? ISN’T IT!!” I growl this to her through my gritted teeth as I am hearing our pelvises crash together. “Yes,” she moaned. “I…did… not… hear… you” slamming into her with each syllable. “YES,” she moaned louder. I was literally jumping up and down in her pounding away at her and my soul purpose was to make her scream at this point. But I Decided against It and slowed down. I Mean the Pussy was good and I didn’t want to Blow My Load too fast because. His friends had always k**ded him about her. "What a fox!" they used to say. Now he realized just how true those words were! She was dressed exactly like Mrs. Holmes and she strutted toward him, stopping only briefly to lash out at her husband's cock with a crop. "Would you like to see me smoke, Stephen?" she offered, brushing her hand lightly against his throbbing member. "Yes, Mom, yes!" he replied excitedly. She produced a long thin cigar from a humidor on a nearby table and put it to her. “Do I have to undergo any other procedures?” Jill asked and propped herself on her elbows. “No. Just wait for the cast to dry. Then you can go home,” Pratt said. “This “go” seems a very difficult verb.” “You will cope with it by using crutches,” he said. “I hate being on crutches!” Jill exclaimed. “Have you ever walked on crutches?” he asked. “I have never had the pleasure.” “Well, you have the chance to do it now.” “I am sure you will look great on crutches,” I interjected. “Yea, I am.