"I hope he washed his hands" she said through her laughs. "I'm never gonna wash them again" I said only half joking, bringing my fingers up towards my... mouth.We all sat down, Hazel and Kelly next to each other on the sofa and me on the floor right in front of them, a bit like a hungry puppy waiting to be fed. I don't think my tongue was hanging out but I can't be sure. After what had just happened the conversation inevitably then turned to sex and they started interrogating me on how many women. .what are you going to do...if I let you cum... what are you going to do for me? I want to hear you, Michael, beg me to feed it to you!" Please, honey, please feed me.... Feed me my cum... make me eat it, OH! I want it so bad, make me eat my cum.... Please Kim make me swallow my own thick cum!" my husband begs. When he cums I catch it all in a wine glass and then I pour into his open mouth and tell him to swallow it all.For months, Michael has been eating his own cum and we've both been getting. He needed to free himself and get back to his own bed. There he could get his mother out of his perverse mind, replace her with some celebrity slut who was better suited as a fantasy fuckmate for him, and jerk off until a big cum would put his disgusting horniness to bed for the night.But apparently his mother wasn't about to release his hand. In fact, she had moved her own hand more fully onto her breasts. She seemed to be caressing herself in her sleep, taking his hand along for the ride.To. How many people were thinking about that girl’s cunt while she was skating, I wondered? Nothing especially dirty or lewd, just wondering about it, about the things its arms and legs and brain were putting it through out there on the ice, the things all of our brains put us through for the sake of our cunts and our cocks. The beauty we watched ice skating for was basically a function of our gonads, wasn’t it? The grace of the bodies arranged just so, speeding over the ice with the arc of an.