"Good. I promise I won't cause any trouble Carl. Please don't chain me up to the tree no more," Scotty said."We won't Scotty. How do you feel this mor...ning?" I asked."I feel fine. Better than I can remember feeling in a long time. And my finger is really well, I didn't just dream it," he said, showing me his repaired hand."That's good. I'm glad you feel good Scotty." There's something else funny about my head now, but it's not hurtin'," he said."Well what's funny about it Scotty?" I asked."I. Very young, playing in my front yard, I noticed a “Playgirl” magazine on the front seat of my mother’s friend’s car. Even then, I knew that it was a magazine for women, a magazine with nude men in it. I knew, and wanted to see it.I nervously snuck into her car and took it out. Opening it up to the centerfold immediately, my eyes washed over the image of a tan, dark skinned man, hairy and with a beautiful, hard cock. (The picture at the top) He looked so sensual, so sexy, even then I was drawn. She removed my erupting member from her oiled and cummy breasts and continued to stroke me with both hands.I kept shooting. My cum ran all over her gloves and more landed on me. Still, she pumped, keeping her grip gently firm. The lubricated hand sent wild sensations through my cock and my cries went up and octave, maybe two.For several long seconds after the ejaculating ceased, Miss Laura kept going. I thought I would faint. I could no longer cry out and my vision darkened. At some point, I. In the kitchen, Harriet scraped the dishes for Millie to wash the next morning. For her part, she stood at the sink and tried to be patient; vainly trying to fend off the lustful feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. The scene she'd witnessed between Millie and the deliveryman was etched in her mind: The way Millie's breasts had bounced as his mammoth cock plowed into her, the wet slapping sounds as their bodies met at the end of each stroke.Harriet tried to compose herself. She was.