Donald has no idea what Emma has in mind, but he is game.Their stacks of pancakes arrive, and as Emma requested extra butter and warmed syrup. She gr...ins when she sees this. She quickly butters her stack and pours some of the syrup on. Donald does the same. But what she does next blows Donald away.She takes some of the soft butter and spreads it on her palm discreetly; lowers her hand to Donald’s cock and smooths it over his shaft. Her firm hands and the greasiness of the butter feels so. ”“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. She can be sneaky sometimes.”She came strolling right back up. “Did you find what you were looking after?” asked Natalya.She smiled. “In the bathroom.”I blushed even deeper. Natalya looked even more puzzled.It started getting windy, so we decided to head back. Natalya tried to find something to talk about but I still felt embarrassed over what had happened. We got back to the pier and decided to head for home. I could tell she felt bad for me. “I’ll make it up to. . I was in her room decorating quietly until I heard footsteps. I turn around to see nothing but her mother naked. She was quite in shock wonder what I was doing as she was grabbing a towel from the dryer. The towel and wrapped it around her body and headed back to her room. It was strange she was so casual about it. I knew she had to get ready for work so I figured she would've been gone by the time I was there. By the time I was done decorating her room I decided to snoop in my girlfriends. Ahead of us, and unseen by me, the lights turned green but all I could concentrate on was that gun; we didn't move. The youth rammed the pistol painfully into my forehead as he shouted that he'd kill me if I didn't get going immediately. Looking back on it now, I have to saw that it's rather odd that in most stories like this, the narrator now tells his readers in cool, measured tones just what sort of gun it was, which country it was made in, what calibre the barrel was and other information.