‘I don’t have any questions about the crash, Mrs. Whitman,’ Rod said. He unbuckled his gun belt and laid it on a table just inside the door. ‘...h?’ Rhonda replied. ‘Then why…?’ ‘I had questions about you,’ Rod said. ‘And I think you’ve answered them.’ ‘I have?’ Rhonda purred. ‘You sure have,’ Rod said, stepping toward her. He untied the belt around her waist and spread the robe open. And when he did, he got another surprise. Mrs. Whitman’s lithe form was encased in a super-sheer lace camisole. Jerry didn't waste much time. He started to rub and touch me everywhere. My breasts, my neck, my legs, my pussy. I felt so dirty. He even inserted a finger inside my pussy and that made me shriek through the gag. Then Jerry got off the bed and removed his waist belt. And with it the cup like leather covering his crotch also came off. For the first time in my life I saw a man's privates. And they were ugly, wrinkly and big. His cock was fat and veined and his balls were wrinkly sacks hanging. More

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