I woke up Sunday morning with a hand full of hard wet cock. It was frustrating because it was only my cock. I was tired of the women who thought their shit didn’t stink. I had been out the night before with my construction worker friends pissing and moaning about needing more excitement at our
Jane Sullivan was forty-nine, and in what she would describe as okay shape. Her long, brown hair brushed a pair of slim, tanned shoulders, her breasts were not that large and sagged just a little, but only a little she reminded herself. She also had a slim waist, and shapely legs. But then she had
Daren Hughes watched is wife through the slits of the mini blinds from his darkened office. She was berating his voluptuous secretary for not having her papers ready. “Mrs. Hughes, please just come into the Notary’s office for the sign off,” the younger woman said. “You can leave your purse here.” Mrs. Hughes slammed down