And there was no hurling of sperm.Merely a steady drizzle of watery ball juice. Whish was what wasleft, I supposed, after the previous two rounds of...the bout.But the drizzle surprised me.I don't always get a drizzle when I'm being ass-fucked these days. Butit seems to be coincident with my most stunning cums.Anyway, back to the narrative.Did Brenda fear for my life after I "left it all on the field" likethat?Not really.She was clawing her way back to the high ground after being hurled offCum. "Do you feel funny there too?" she breathily squeaked lifting her head some. I had sat sideways on the bed and her eyes looked at my crotch. There was a soaked wet spot visible, and she reached out and rubbed it with her tiny fingers. "Can I touch you there?" It was well beyond the asking, as her fingers deftly slipped under my panties and pulled the material aside, exposing my tangled mess of wet pubic hair and the gaping gash of my pussy. My secretions were dripping even before she had. More

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