He his grabbed my wrist, the grip was firm, he twisted and pushed downward forcing me to put down the bottle.“You don’t need more right now,” he... said. “Finish what you have first.” Letting go of my wrist, he looked at me with cold, dark eyes.I let loose of the Pappy’s, placed both hands on the table. He put his dark hand over my pale white one. A sly grin passed over his face, and he said, “Your wife is a lot younger than you.”“Twenty-five years,” I told him with some measure of pride.“You’ll. Coswell was an amateur author that hoped to write a novel or short story where one of the characters did indeed become on the receiving end of some of those phrases, would that surprise you?”“I did not consider that option, as I indicated.”“But that is a distinct possibility, is it not?”“That’s not for me to decide, sir.” The sheriff knew better than to put additional judgments on the material he’d been asked to describe. He’d been careful to not specifically aim any of the material at. He had pulled my arse up so that my back was arched but my face still down into the sofa, and he was holding my hips to help him glide in and out of me. With my hands tied I took his hard fucking, as I felt his pace quicken I hoped he would cum soon as the position wasn't so comfortable and as much as his thrusts were sending pleasure deep through me I had not asked for this.Suddenly he pulled his dick from me and I hoped he would release onto me, but he did no such thing. Instead he twisted my. . ohh ... nipple as the ghost pinches and plays with it." You know I'm gonna fuck you, sweetness," I whispered. "My pecker's aching to feel your cooch's embrace."She laughed, "A small price to pay to capture the supernatural on film." So you're a real whore for your work?" That's one way to put it." How'd you put it then, sweetness." I'm dedicated." So am I," I purred. "Dedicated to fuckin' purtee, young thangs."She laughed, tossing back her fiery-red hair. I pushed the curtain of red to the.