I noticed that the baked potatoes had turned to gorgeous pan-browned chunks. My mother had carved the game hens in the kitchen and served the meat on ... platter. There were a few other last-minute changes, too. I knew there were originally three baked potatoes and three Cornish game hens, one for each of us. My mother had turned it into a meal for four, as if that had been the plan all along. We passed serving dishes around while my father opened the champagne. He poured for my mother and. On my next thrust her grip tightened more but her head must have changed positions and like yesterday I found my cock slip into her waiting mouth and I gave out a muffled cry as I felt my cock hit the back of her throat and her lips tighten like a vice.I tried to thrust to avoid the pin but her bobbing head was making it a struggle; my balls were starting to get wet with the saliva that Val was producing but she tried holding on for as long as she could.It was when her body started to shake. More

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