From then on, I arranged frequent fishing trips. It wasn't toodifficult to get away. My wife had decided to start pottery classesand had met some girls who played in a skittles league. So somenights she was out and some nights I was. We still were quite. One last chance to stop. One last chance tohonor her husband and their marriage. One last chanceto fuck Pete. She wept as her hands went to her waist, anduntied the straps. She lifted the silk from her cunt,and let it drop to the floor. Pete pressed his cockagainst her bare opening. “Do it!” She cried. Pete took her hand, and placed it on his penis.“You do it.” “Oh God!” She closed her eyes. The tears stillcrept out as Pete grinned broadly. She. He placed both hands on the washer and lifted himself onto the lid.I bent and sucked his hard cock into my mouth. I could smell the butter from the kitchen in his pubes. My tongue pushed against the vein on the underside of his cock as I worked the head into my throat.His foreskin retracted, and the bare head slipped down my throat. His hands moved to the back of my head and held me there.When he released me, I came up for air, and, then, I dove back onto his cock. Again, his hands came to.Read More
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