Matt slowly eased his huge cock into Mrs. Miller as she started moaning. "Fuck me you fuckin stud," Mrs. Miller demanded as Matt eased the rest of his... engorged cock into her. "Oh fuck, it hurts," Mrs. Miller declared.Matt stopped and she reached around and dug her nails in his back and said "Keep fuckin going stud," as Matt started to pump again. "Oh shit, I didn't realize you were this fuckin big," Mrs. Miller said as Matt worked his way up to a steady pace. "Oh fuck! yes!," Mrs. Miller. Still, she wanted to celebrate somehow. Her gaze landed on the messenger in front of her. He was young, perhaps even as young as her. She thanked the gods her father had waited until just after her eighteenth birthday to die. She had not fancied the idea of her Aunt Muriella controlling her fortune for her. He stood nervously in the doorway, uncertain of himself, with the awkward stance of a youth not quite at ease in his own body. Perhaps, she thought, he had only recently become so handsome.. ” I helped her to her feet, and as I pulled up my shorts, she wrapped the skirt around her and did up her blouse buttons. As we started back to the car, I could see the large wet patch of hers and my juices dead centre at the back of the dress. We climbed back over the style, walked to the car, where I got out a bottle of water and an empty plastic ice-cream container. “We can soak the skirt in this.” “What will I wear driving home?” she asked. I got the blanket out of the car and wrapped. Dear plain cotton underwear- Thank you for being so dependable and reliable. Thank you for being there for me and offering your support. I always appreciate it. Just remember that I am not angry at you, I am angry at nature, please don't hold it against me. Dear patterned cotton underwear- Thank you for supporting all my different moods. If I want to be cute and innocent I can wear the butterfly pair or the pair with the hearts. If I am feeling teasing or naughty I can wear the pairs that have.