Had she traveled? Had she gone to school? And through it all, he hadn't pried, hadn't insinuated or demanded.Even when he walked her to her door, he had remained a perfect gentleman, kissing her hand delicately and wishing her a good evening's rest. Chris went to bed that evening of a full stomach and a prayer in her heart for Sandy. Sandy, maybe this once I misjudged you. A free meal and a few drinks, and I'll be out of this mess you got us into. Yes, maybe for once you were right, Sandy.Stories below, Margaret Sorenson completed her nightly ritual of watching Johnie Carson on television while sipping a small glass of sherry. On the kitchen table sat two place settings; only one of them used. Roger had not shown up for dinner, despite the note of invitation she'd tacked to his door. When she had gone down to investigate at eight o'clock, just as she'd taken the roast out of the oven for the second time, she'd heard the unmistakable grunts and groans of lovemaking.Roger was cheating. Only a small sound escaped as you glanced around nervously. But we were completely and utterly alone, shielded by the darkness.In seconds, I had your belt undone and your pants unzipped as I wrestled free the eager monster that had been awaiting my touch. As a little payback, I grasped mid-shaft, ever so lightly, and agonizingly stroked along the length of your cock. Your hips rose to meet my touch, your eyes closing and a sharp breath escaped your lips. Deciding to play nice, I scooted closer still, head in your lap as you knotted your hands in my hair. I let my wet tongue circle the very tip of your cock just once before taking the huge throbbing head into my mouth.I’d expected to have a little trouble, but you were so much bigger in person. I stroked the length of your shaft with one hand, letting the other run over your balls, gently squeezing, as my tongue massaged what little of your cock it could manage. You strengthened your grip on my hair as your cock began to shudder. We.
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