It was really more brown than black--the realistic color of a black man’s penis. It was at least 10 inches long and as big around as a large cucumbe...r and molded to be very life-like (though at that point in my life, I had never seen one to know).Coming to my senses, I scooped everything up and put it back in the box. This meant I had to touch the black rubber cock and, as with the image, the feel of it was forever imprinted on my hands as I placed the fake dick back in the box, closed the lid. GQ,’ my face towhere I knew he stood, watching, waiting. With my feetslightly apart, I closed my eyes and slowly beganmaking slow circles with my hips with the music. Mr. GQ walked up behind me and began mimicking me,molding his body to mine. When the singers voicepicked up speed my hips did as well and as she slowedso did my ass. My body was interpreting the songperfectly into sex and he knew it. When I made slowergrinds, my eyes squeezed shut just as they should. Mr.GQ put his hands on. It was about the size of a six-pack of canned soda. There was a plastic speaker grill on the front."It's a baby monitor," he explained, as if talking to a dimwit. "Andthe receiver will be in the bedroom, so you can hear us. That way youwon't feel like you're alone."I was already struggling to open the first jar of creamed peas with myrestricted hands. When I got it opened that was a small victory. Butit also meant that I had to start eating the contents. Just the smellmade my gorge rise. . Something serious."Unhesitatingly, Marsha snuggled herself on her father's lap. He wasn't always this affectionate, but when the opportunity came, Marsha always grabbed it.Mark wrapped his arms around her waist. His huge prick pounded so fiercely in his pants he knew she had to feel it, although she gave no sign. But, he remembered, she was still a cherry. For about another ten minutes, if he could help it.He began by rubbing her belly gently, reaching beneath her T- shirt, his rod leaping at.