Clenching her fists tightly, Jeanne began to slowly draw her hands from the base of the trunk to the tip of the head. Jeanne's penis began to pulse a...nd grow. She continued massaging her organ, varying the tightness of her grip and the speed of her stroke. Jeanne's cock grew and lengthened at a remarkable rate. Even the amazons, who were accustomed to seeing huge pieces of cockmeat on a daily basis, were amazed at how quickly Jeanne's piece of meat sprouted to life before their. She moved around me, trying to see, as I kept turning. Then I tilted the phone so she couldn’t see that the screen was blank. She didn’t need to. The volume was on high and her words left little to the imagination.“Oh, yes. Yes! Harder, Jim. Fuck me harder! Oh YES! Like that! More, more, oooh...”“You’re such a nasty little bitch!” She didn’t say that. That would have been weird. I didn’t say it either – although I could have, with complete justification. It was the voice of James McLaughlin,. If you don't know anything about southern girls, they love Jesus but they also love to fuck. After all, they are in church almost every Sunday "talking" to God anyway so it's fine for them to be slutty.With that being said, I got a message from her telling me that she saw a sign on the highway showing her less than 15 miles from my house. This was near the church she played piano at every Sunday. She then kept the message saying that I should tell her how to get to my house. I kindly obliged. Not giving me the opportunity to say anything, she pressed her body against mine and forcefully slid her tongue into my mouth. Letting my backpack fall to the floor, she took my hands and wrapped them around her waist and onto her firm ass. Pulling my hips into hers and moaning as she felt my erection stirring in my pants. She hiked up her sundress and let me slide my fingers between the fabric of her mesh thong and her shaved pussy. Swollen, wet and tender. She started to unfasten my belt and.