“I’m a good church-going girl. How dare you ask me to do such a thing?"I was young and innocent that I was not really sure what a hand job was. Bu... I knew it was something to do with sex. I was interested because I’d heard some other girls talking about hand jobs, and I was definitely curious, very excited, but also rather scared.Then one day, without any warning, he let go of the steering wheel, unzipped his pants and whipped out his cock! He turned to me, taking his eye off the road, and said. What had he done to her, what had she done coming here tonight?Her thoughts jumped back to the present as his hands hefted her full breasts, lifting them gently before letting them sag back down. She'd always hated her large breasts, hated the way the drew men's stares, hated how they sagged instead of looking pert and firm like other women's did.That was until he convinced her that hers were perfect, that he loved that tiny bit of droop that showed they were real, not silicone bags tucked. More

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