Emma lit two white candles in cheap holders on the table. She wasn’t sure if the candle-light thing was corny, but it felt right to her.She didn’t...really know what kind of music Brent was into, so she put on the local soft-rock station to play it safe. You couldn’t go wrong with Fleetwood Mack or Rod Stewart, she thought.Right on time, Brent knocked on her door.“Hi, Brent!” Emma said, grinning ear-to-ear. She was pleased to see him carrying Bruiser as she had suggested. “Please, come in!”Brent. I worked the phones until around 9 and called Walker, “Order in. Anything.”“Roger that.”I could smell the Wrigley pork soup simmering on the stove as I gave Walker a quick hug. He’d become very aware of my boobs over the past year or two, so I teasingly squished my nipples back and forth against his bony chest.The food had come from the downstairs restaurant in the Wrigley. We order from there often. Handy and delicious.Quick shower, just to rinse away the day’s cares, then a sit-down dinner. I came to myself with a tingling aching sensation inside my prick, the stiffness, and spending had hurt the urethra which had been split by the bougie. I had a notion that blood must be coming, and still stiff pulled it out of her; the little lingering sperm on the tip looked all right, she had not spent, for I don’t think I could have shoved more than once before I had emitted my semen. I threw myself on her to put into her again, but she baulked me. “Oh! now for God’s sake if my husband. I know Lucy did, too. I saw her staring at the bulge in your jeans. I expect she thought it was her that was making it grow, and she was partly right. But I saw your prick give a little twitch as you glanced across at my juicy boobs." Why don't you do what I'm doing, mate?" Jack asked. "Come over here if you like, and make her other nipple go big and hard!"I sat on the other side of Caroline. The bedsprings creaked. The bed had an open pine frame and springs, rather than a divan. I gazed at her.
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