She shook her head slowly back and forth and for a moment I thought she was about to speak. Then, slowly, never taking her eyes off my cock, she bent...down to manoeuvre her feet out of the black boots she was wearing, the unbalancing effect of her tits forcing her to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. Then she stood upright again and unfastened her jeans, easing them past the curve of her buttocks and down to the ground. The huge rugby shirt now hung free, its front dangling far in. " All right," she said, "calm down and go ring the alarm bell." I help?" I said."Get your weapon," she said, "follow me and stay close. I still don't trust you."Standing, Susan Simon was another story altogether. She was about five-foot-eight and went a good nine stone, a big, long-legged woman with muscular thighs and a full chest who filled out her man's puffy-sleeved shirt completely and stretched the material of her britches wonderfully. She wore high boots and a heavy belt, and she had not. Not with cold, the fire in the huge inglenook was roaring and crackling beside me, but with a whole host of feelings. Fear, embarrassment, not least, excitement, but there was nothing I could do. My mind just would not work and the flickering of the flames from both the fire and the candles cast moving shadows around the room. Feyja moved slinkily toward me and began to dry me with the towel. Gently smoothing it over my body, my breasts, my stomach, and down between my legs. Not once did she. Let me be a good cheerleader.Okay? Please, I'll do the work," he said, working hiships on the cock.I pulled the cock back until just the head was in, sothat I could watch him take it voluntarily. He beganto inch back on the cock.God, I was dripping! "Keep talking, slut!" Idemanded."Oh, God, it's big, Troy. It feels unnatural, so fullwhen it goes in. It's such a relief when it goes out.Ugh! Like the best shit ever... Ow, Ow, please, willyou put some more lube on? There's a tube on thenightstand,.