John is a minimalist and frugal with himself. He planned, saved, and invested well to live comfortably for the rest of his life on his pension and dividends from his substantial investments. During his days in the Corps, and always a gentleman, he considered most single women in social settings as trouble to be avoided whenever possible, aside to satisfy a man’s hard-wired needs. He was content with this arrangement and enjoyed the freedom of being a bachelor. He had many amicable trysts; with shall we say sex “good beautiful ass time gals” and avoided the long-term relationship with the marrying types fucking of women. Upon retirement, John moved back home to the family farm to repair, remodel, and upgrade the building on the old homestead. The most labor-intensive was striping and sanding, staining and varnishing the wide-wood floors, woodwork, and trim inside the farmhouse. The remodeling was almost complete except for minor wiring and painting in three of the four upstairs bedrooms. The sparsely furnished rooms he was using were the kitchen, bathroom, and his bedroom; the rest were empty. In his bedroom was a king-size bed, and to John, it was a decadent, although a much-appreciated luxury. The new oak bed, matching dressers; Hudson Bay wool blankets, plus a thick and plush down comforter were a housewarming gift from his sister. There was also a mint garage-sale oak and red canvas director’s chair he picked up for a song. He had a second-hand facesitting reading lamp beside a state-of-the-art shortwave radio on a perfectly good bedside maple table someone left at the curb. There was an old wicker laundry basket by the radiator. His grandmother’s maple Colonial kitchen table and chairs were in the kitchen. Most of what he owned, which isn’t much, was in storage in the small barn. Unfortunately, the new hot water tank’s heating element was defective, necessitating cold showers and boiling water on the stove for doing the dishes. John decided to return the tank, still under warranty, and install hot water on demand. John was restless that March, and he didn’t know why. He was finally home and back to his roots. He reconnected with many of his old classmates, friends, and neighbors who still lived in the area. John decided he needed a woman. His last was a month ago in Erie, PA, with a hot, buxom, redhead real estate agent, in her early thirties; Janet Stone, recently divorced. Janet was prime real estate to plow. He plowed Janet that oil the entire weekend. Janet was also one hell of a cook and discreet. They both got what they wanted. I don’t tell; you don’t tell, and no strings attached. They had a mutual agreement. "You know, I sex wouldn't drink at all, if I could just have sex whenever I needed it. She rummaged through her drawer for a few seconds before pulling out a rectangular gift, with a hand-wrapped bow on the top. So did his dick. “Hey kid!” “I can understand stuff. Baby girl, there are some eggs, bacon, and biscuits in the refrigerator on the top shelf. I had moved so that I was on my knees in his seat, so when he slid his hand down my back and on my ass, I spread my legs wider. Life is good! It wasn't that Travis was a bad man, she oil loved him with all her heart, but she saw something in me that wasn't in my father. And very upset too, as I was just staring at her butt, and at the sperm that was now oozing out of her vagina, and falling down onto fucking the living room floor. Her nipples and cunt were on fire, and it felt like she was being shocked, almost like she was being electrocuted. Emily obeyed, one hand flying to her pussy and beginning to beautiful ass rub her clit, trying to let the pleasure out weigh the pain. He laughed long and hard before letting me in on the joke. As facesitting long as you two are also that open.
“Why don’t you try?” After a bit of a struggle, I get it on. I get up and ask her to oil lie down. “You want to get on top?” “Yeah.” She looks sexy on her back. In spite of that plump arse, her hips sex are gorgeously narrow. Her stomach creases with folds of skin that have no fat underneath. Her boobs loll around and she squishes them together to produce some cleavage. She grunts and winces as I try to enter her as if she is worried that I am too big and I’m going to hurt her. I’m hard, but she has dried up during the break and the condom catches. I ease fucking in slowly. I can’t believe I am fucking Tabatha. Her body looks so hot and her pussy feels so strange and new around my cock. It is so much different from beautiful ass her hand or her mouth. These thoughts make me harder. She feels tight and she sighs and moans each time I push in. Her pussy must be facesitting getting wetter because my cock starts to slide in and out more easily, and with each stroke I go deeper. We have no gel, so the slipperiness is all her. He was beautiful ass tall but lankier, not as muscular. His eyes got wide then a sinister fucking smile crossed his lips. “Please, don't use such a vulgar term. At the end she sex was asked to make a list of oil suitable jobs for a facesitting slut like her. They coated her thick, silky pubic hair. She felt him hit the back of her throat, causing her the gag and squirm, struggling against him. After having a bite of the chocolate, he raised it again for her to have her share.
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