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I rubbed her mound softly and a finger slipped between her pussy lips. They were wet and hot. I stroked up and down and then in and out while my thumb...grazed her clit. I slipped two fingers inside her and drew them out, over and over.Her arm had reached down to her side and her hand grasped my cock. She squeezed it gently repeatedly.My cock was hard.Her pussy was hot and wet.I moved between her legs. Her hand never left my cock. She placed my cock head against her pussy lips and I pushed. And her body had no such inner conflicts about it, more than happy to give away her arousal with copious amounts of her juices, and endless panting.Her grip tightened on Art’s shoulders, and she whimpered for mercy as Matthew eased two of his large fingers into her tiny, squeezing body. Two sets of fingers, both wriggling, squirming, pushing and massaging against her insides, all while Art continued to gently suckle and kiss her clitoris, too soft to push her over the edge though. He didn’t. I remember people coming into our house. I remember going to the funeral home and doing all the stuff to get the funeral set up. I don't remember sitting there. I don't remember the funeral itself, but I remember watching his casket being lowered into the ground. They wanted me to leave, but I needed to see it. I watched as the backhoe pushed the dirt in on him. I stood as they took everything away from me. My life was gone the moment Freddy was lowered into the earth.John somehow was able to. I was introduced to Betty his wife and he asked me to call him Steve when we were away from work. Betty was a beauty with long red hair, a smaller frame that I would call petite. I know she was my boss’s wife, but she had really large breasts that I couldn’t help looking at. There were a couple times I had to put my hands over my lap to keep my growing hardon from showing. Once I saw her smile at me with a smile that would cause spring flowers to bloom in the middle of winter while I was.
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