“Six weeks?” “Yes, six weeks,” Sara smiled. “I will enjoy Doug’s cock for four nights a week for the next six weeks.” “I have to wait ...ix more weeks before I can see or touch you?” I asked. “Just for seeing your tits.” Sara smiled and she saw my dick was hard and she knew how much I was loving this. She replied, “You are right, six weeks is too small a punishment, we will make it eight weeks.” “What did I do to get an extra two weeks?” “Look, you have an erection,” she smiled, “plus, you. Cal wasn’t much of a drinker. He had a weak stomach when it came to alcohol, two or three drinks in, be it beer or something hard, and he was ready for the porcelain throne. He liked the taste of whiskey, it just didn’t like him, so he and it agreed to stay mostly apart. It was a clean place, at least clean for a tavern. There were numerous tables, most of which had at least one, maybe two legs a little off center, meaning they were easy to rock. Cal thought, ‘nothing like a table that turns. More

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