I’m riding down the New Jersey Turnpike, heading to a poetry slam with the Church Lady of all people. Just my luck. Hey, Church is on Sunday. It’s... not on Friday night.”“You’d be surprised. I attend Church every night.”“Girl, you crazy.”“Woman, Claude. Woman.”“Okay, look, let’s start this evening over.”“Fine,” she giggled. “How do you do? My name is Amanda Larson. I’m your poetry teacher.”“There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” She plugged in the Anne Murray tape. “I love her. I have all her. I say from the crowd of them because everyone kept chanting “speech-speech-speech!” Rozelle nudged me. I took a deep breath. I looked over at the clock in the dinette where we were all clustered about. It read 11:15 a.m.“Okay then,” I said “Twenty-eight years ago I met and married Stacey Wilcox. We began our lives together and everything looked totally wonderful. Then, there was ‘my’ daughter Jenna, and no man alive was happier than was I.“But then, over the years, between then and now, things. .," I groaned, as she blew me off. She continued to do this for some time, and I was about to blow my load inside her mouth when she gradually stopped. I gently pushed her down flat on the sofa and kissed her neck. It was one of her weak spots, and she began to giggle. I grabbed hold of my cock and placed it in front of her pussy again. "Do you want me to go inside you?" I said softly. "Of course Cal, I'm all yours," she replied. In no rush, I carefully slid my cock inside her drenched pussy.. Cause she had a coy sexxy smile on her face that i will never forget... like a cougar who just cornered its prey... later i realized she knew exactly what she was doing...and she didnt stop thrusting the black object in and out of her pussy just yet, for it seems she was enjoying it too much to stop. in fact she started to thrust the toy faster... moaning , whimpering , as if her body had taken control of her actions and she was powerless to stop. faster, and faster, she expertly guided the.