Everyone had stopped and turned to look at us. ‘What?’ I said. ‘A guy can’t go out on a date?’ ‘Sure he can,’ said the woman standing at...the stove over a pot of sauce. ‘The Olympics happen every four years, too. And everybody stops and watches. Here, taste.’ As everyone returned to work laughing at my expense, she silenced my retort by shoving a spoon in my face full of the wonderful tomato-based sauce that the restaurant specialized in. ‘Mmmm, wonderful,’ I nodded. ‘Oh, my God,’ said Jenny,. "Go on touch it." We heard in a deep voice. There I was on my knees, between my wife's legs, paralyzed. I didn't say a word as Barb reached out and touched the black cock. Semi hard it twitched at Barb's touch, provoking her to do more. Barb wrapped her fingers around the base of the cock and slowly began stroking it. I couldn't believe my eye's, I unzipped my pants and began jerking off as I watched my wife stoking the black monster.Then Barb leaned over and began pumping on his cock with both. .. Being butchered so often must take its toll on my thinking abilities... 'She walked up to the edge of the cliff and bent forward, looking down. The cliff face wasn't quite straight down, but jutted out several times. Unless she jumped way out, she would hit the side before she hit the bottom, assuming, of course, that she found herself unable to fly.She smiled at the thought of it, realizing that it would be another exquisitely orgasmic death to experience – falling, striking the cliff face. And I knew then what I needed, what I wanted. And it was there, just within reach of my bed. My hand found it and I ran my fingers along the long neck. Maybe just touching it would be enough. One set of fingers furiously rubbing my cunt while the other set caressed the glass. Caressed what I really wanted. I grabbed it and brought it into bed with me. Kicked the covers off and ran the bottle-mouth between my tits and down my tummy. Fuck I was wet. I knew the bottle would slide in easily. Made.