All afternoon at work, I felt even naughtier. Not only still pantiless, but now with my sore, thoroughly banged pussy completely filled up with warm, ...gooey Dave-juice. And my pussy lips clenched so tight as to not let even one wonderful drop escape from me. This morning, Valentine’s Day, my husband handed me a box of chocolates and mumbled something charming and endearing about, “Here, I guess I had to get you this.” “Had to?” “It’s expected.” “I long ago gave up expecting anything from you,”. Sue suggested, "Why don't you go stay on the Irish Bell for a couple of days and switch when we tie up next. That way you can enjoy all the different boats. Get your new guitar, a bunch of your music, some clothes and toiletries, and go over there. They will enjoy having you. I'm sure some of the kids will follow you over there too."As Sue was saying this, I noticed Bonita talking to Kathy.I moved some clothes, music, and my guitar to the Irish Bell. Lucille showed me to a cabin below the main. But she was hoping that her vulnerable openness, and her willingness to be used would make up for physical shortcomings. Even so, her heart still pounded in her chest as she undressed. This man was not just taking her clothes off, he was stripping her of any semblance of self protection and safety against the pain of another rejection. With her blouse and skirt removed, she stood in front of the screen trying to cover as many imperfections as she could with two hands. "Now take off the bra and. .. I'm cumming..."Her hips bucked wildly up and down, and Becky could feel the woman's ass muscles contracting rhythmically around her fingers. This one was really out of control. Becky was certain that the camera would pick up the sound of the woman's high-pitched squealing, and would have a great view of the way her juices were running freely over her fingers and down her arm. She was riding this orgasm for all it was worth, and went on for a full minute before collapsing forward from.