”No ma'am,” I answered, ”I can stay all weekend if you want me to.””Are you sure?” she teased, biting her bottom lip.I smiled and said, �...You couldn’t run me off. You make me want to fuck you.”“Give Tom a half hour and he will be sound asleep. With that medicine he took, you couldn’t wake him with a bull horn.” We went downstairs to get some breakfast and juice. Sitting at the breakfast table, I couldn't take my eyes off her. We had fucked at least four times but I had lost count. I could feel. I may sometimes admire and lust after other women with big tits and plump, juicy cunts, and may actually fuck them and have them suck me off, but that is for just pure physical sexual ogiastic pleasure and doesn't have anything to do with my enduring everlasting love for my woman, Lydia). Why and how Lydia became a whore is probably more my fault than anyone else's, although it was never my deliberate intention to turn her into a whore. It just kind of worked out that way. That story is kind of. More

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