In her early forties. About 5 feet 2 inches. Petite in stature, with small, pert breasts. I guessed them to be a handful, which later on would define ...my standard for perfection. But her greatest features were her legs. She wore short dresses that barely came to mid thigh, and showed off her figure. She also had light blue/gray eyes that seem to always sparkle. When she smiled, her eyes would twinkle. Her eyes suggested a lot of life behind them. I think that she was not aware of how her dress. With all her father's old tools in a single bag she thanked her father and got the hell out of there and back over to her friend Stacey's house, "Did you get it?, Did you get it?" Stacey jumped around excited, "Yes I got it" Jessica replied over turning the bag dumping all her fathers old tools on the bed, they were rusty and not well cared for over the years of not being used, Stacey picked up the tagging gun and fondled it lovingly, "Ok meat strip" she said waving the tagging gun around,. As he released her hand, she allowed the tension in her head to ease by letting out the breath she’d been holding in. She felt as if she’d just passed a life or death test. She stepped into the enfolding darkness, realising her friends had been right. She had stood inches from him as he touched her and he hadn’t recognised her. “Better,” she heard from behind her. She looked back, startled. “You weren’t made to do blonde.” He was half turned in the doorway and didn’t even look at her, just. " He said when he pulls out, I better get a deep breath, because I am only going to give you one, before I jam my cock back down your throat again. He grabbed my head and proceeded to hard fuck my throat. I could feel the head of his cock pushing down my throat and could feel the shape of the head as it blocked me from breathing. He did it over and over, but always, as promised, would pull out just long enough, for me to get one breath. While it was out he would spread the spit around my face,.