"Is being fair that important to you?" she asked."That's what I want inscribed on my tombstone," I said."What do you want inscribed on your tombstone?..." Sammy K. Oldham didn't always tell the truthHe may have lied and been full of shitHe may have sinned and been uncouthBut whatever he did, he was always fair about it." Did you just make that up?" she asked."No, it's in my journal."Marcie was still lying on her back, contemplating something, possibly what I'd just said or what she was going to. I have never been like this before. I am utterly vulnerable, open, submissive and abandoned. And I have a full view of my audience and their reactions. It is delicious. My cock and balls are still constrained. I am asked to comment on my situation. I do so honestly, and excitedly. "This might be a nice way to introduce your slave to your friends," she comments."Let's take this opportunity to lubricate his little hole. We may want to use it later," she explains, as she works copious amounts of. She lifted her blouse up, and her pert little breasts bounced out. He hadn't noticed before that she wasn't wearing anything under her blouse. She swayed from side to side so the breasts bobbed fully, enticingly, around the light pink nipples. "Look George, she said in a loud voice, this is Susan, do you want to see my breasts? Open your eyes George, look at what you're missing." She remained in front of him, her light shirt sitting up above her breasts, and, running her hands up and down her. He took a hold of my ass and slowly lifted me up and down letting his hands wander on my body. He reached up to my neck and tore my dress off me so I was fully nude, riding him. I saw him hand the torn dress to a guy who had his hand out in one of the holes but I needed John’s cock in me too badly to say anything. I needed to ride him harder, take him more. I reached forward and hugged John’s head and stared into his eyes, cum filled condom still in my hand, as I slammed myself onto him.