Susan sighed. “Don’t be bashful,” she all but gasped at the erotic feeling of his touching her. “Lean over and taste my milk. Plant...your lips around my hard aching nipple and suck the milk from me. Oooooo, shit, yeah,” she exclaimed. “Just like that.” Brad had from somewhere mustered the courage and firmly clamped his lips around her turgid nipple and began sucking. There was nothing at first, then suddenly her full tit gushed forth with torrents of hot. He stepped on the gas and ran the light, and the next four lights, as images of Jill helplessly bouncing up and down on the finial of his staircase’s banister, or on her hands and knees on his kitchen floor, trying to shove a carrot or cucumber deep up into herself played in his head and terrified him, especially because of the slight stirring in his loins that they also caused him. He’d been speeding all the way home, and he’d been able to make it in record time due to the traffic. He’d seen. More

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