”“Who’s your favorite poet by the way? I never got around to asking you that.”“I’d say Sylvia Plath.”“I’ve heard of her. Never liste...ed to her, though.”“Some things are meant to be read. ‘ I didn’t want any flowers. I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free.’““What’s free? Ain’t nothing around here for free.”“What did I say about grammar, Claude?”“Okay, okay. I apologize. The poem sounds like a funeral. Very depressing.”“That’s. "Dan continued to slide his hard cock into her hot tight pussy. He lowered his mouth and his lips closed around her already hard nipples and he gently sucked."Mm, that's better." She went to work out twice a week; Cheri told her husband that she went three times a week. As his cock made her pussy even hotter she matched him stroke for stroke. She giggled; well this was sort of a workout.At first, he had felt guilty, but as his relationship with his daughter in law developed those feelings had. More

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