I got my picture taken about a million times and a cashiers check ... and a tax document."You should ring off the win," a cute girl suggested."How to ... do that?" Stick a twenty in it and pull the arm." Ok."I did like she asked ... the wheels spun ... I turned away ... Flashing lights, sirens, horns ... I'd won again. The manager ... who hadn't left yet ... got all bug eyed. He whispered to the cute girl and she took off. She was back in a few minutes with a second check ... and the tax man .... I can only come if she blows me or if I could fuck her in the ass and today was the only day she let me do that. She says she practicing for someone.” I dropped the gun from the side of his head and spun him around to face me. “Who’s she practicing for?” I asked. George’s eyes got wide. “You, you, you don’t know,” he stammered. “If I knew George, would I be fucking asking you? Tell me who the fuck she’s practicing for.” George nodded side to side. “I can’t tell you. I promised I would never. If she let me touch her rosebud, she was ready for me to make love to her. “Sweetie, it looks like I poured a little too much, would it be ok to gently massage it in?” No answer. I repeated the question, because I would never touch her rosebud without getting permission. “Sure, I guess so,” Pat answered softly.I softly spread her cheeks with one hand and began to lightly touch her rosebud. I gently ran my finger from the top of her crack to the very bottom of her pussy always taking time to. You’re mature now, your blonde hair is darker but your voluptuous body is still so erotically exciting. I linger on the shots of you squatting naked but for red high heels on the kitchen table downstairs. Your big round breasts are swung up and thrust out, your legs are straining wide and my camera is aimed straight at your gaping wide fur ringed vagina between your legs. In my mind, I relish how I had you bent over that table. I browse through lots, lots more.As I browse our pictures I rub.