"No smoking stupid!" Stan ordered, and went back to his conversation with Davo.Wassa didn't care about the smokes one bit; he wanted the stocking. Wel... it wasn't a real stocking as such; it was the leg cut from a pair of pantyhose. But it was translucent and sheer; just the thing for a bankjob; or a handjob, he giggled mentally to himself. He slid the diaphanous nylon over his stubby engorged member and moved Michele's fingers back onto his phallus.Michele was no stranger to masturbating into. He’d come out of snooze mode to find her rooting about down there, and thought to himself, well, if it please thee — and closed his eyes to leave her to it. A few minutes later, she’d become enthused by a sleepy surge, and she’d redoubled her efforts, awakening him again, and a little annoyed, if truth be told. Now, she was apparently convinced that, in spite of the ample evidence to the contrary — his near comatose state, the fact that this would mark a fifth orgasm of the evening and thus, at. More

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