Her inner lips were flushed and flowering, meaty enough to nibble. Amy mushed them around, adding a circular rub to Judy's clit hood (anti-clockwise, ...ince we're in the northern hemisphere). Her moaning was audible, her need palpable. Her pussy scent mingled with the redolence of pot smoke and fine Bordeaux.My cock was a bone, erect but still concealed, straining at my slacks. Over the years and especially since Amy, I've come to appreciate the slow, steady approach to passion. Release is more. It was the last example of the kind of workmanship that was available in the 1930's. That boat wasn't built ... it was crafted.'An Auto Auction!! Who-da-thunk-it?"Make it out to my mom ... it's her boat." She said to make it out to you." Mr. Bishop explained.Damn it. Now I needed to make a major purchase or I was going to lose more than half that to Uncle."All right ... I mean it's not ... but what can I say?" I took the check. "What are your plans?"Mr. Bishop suggested he might head for. More

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