But I had never tried to pick up a college girl, or had one do anything more than innocently flirt with me. I shave my head, but I keep a short, neat... beard, which was salt and pepper, with the occasional blonde or copper streak, and had been that way since I was twenty-five. Thanks for the SUPER gray hair genetics, mom. I always smiled and flirted back, but never went any further, knowing that they had a good idea I was quite a bit older than them. So I took it in stride that these two were. I was twisting and moaning and digging my fingernails into the sleeves of his t-shirt. The table thumped against the wall. The girls were furiously discussing something and so I moaned louder to interrupt them. That just made me feel hotter. The more I put in the more I got out. Matthew was growling right along with me.“I’m cumming!” I exclaimed. It felt really good to make the girls know that. Matthew fucked me right through the twisty vertigo of it all. I don’t remember grabbing into the. I contemplated the swollen cunt lips a few inches from my face as I crouched down. They were already wet with her juices. Reg had obviously prepared her thoroughly. I let my tongue tip made tentative contact. I felt a tremor run through her pelvis. She thrust up to meet me. I began to lick, first one side, then the other, finding the taste very slightly salty. I pushed my tongue between the lips, firmly now, penetrating an inch or two. I was rewarded with a moan from somewhere above, and a. . They’d grown.If I had to guess, I’d say I was an F-cup, but I was in completely unknown territory here. I could have been a G, H ... do they even make “H” cup? I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life as an A, I’d never expected to have to know anything about the larger sizes.What’s more, they seemed to be completely defying gravity. A chest as large as mine, you’d expect a bit of sag ... anything this large that stood up proudly would look fake, but somehow my breasts managed to be.