“And what was that punch for?” he asked mildly.“That was for not being a gentleman, Donald Whitfield. You didn’t even wish me a good morning!�...�“But darling, you were cuming for almost thirty minutes this morning. What was that?”“That was your cock, Donald. Your cock was saying good morning to his beloved — if somewhat battered — sheath who adores him. Your cock is a gentleman, Donald. What’s wrong with the rest of you?”“I adore you, Marion Whitfield.” A few minutes passed in silence and he said,. “I know I am,” I replied. “But how horny are you?” “Let's find out,” Ivy answered. “Together.” Ivy grabbed my right hand and led me over to a table. She motioned for me to climb on top of the table. I climbed onto the table and lay down on my back. Ivy smiled as she pulled her top up and off of her. She grabbed her boobs as she showed off her rack. A pair of natural double B's. “Very nice,” I told her. “Now watch this,” Ivy said. Ivy turned around and bent down. Her miniskirt rose up as she. More

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