O'Connor, but I actually can't remember what I did to deserve your thanks." I thought you might not. Does the name John Brown ring a bell?"Hesitating,...I nodded. She smiled."He's my son. His real name is Franklin O'Connor."Of course I remembered. It had been about a year and a half earlier. He was the eighteen year old punk who came into my store with a prescription for oxy, obviously forged on a doctor's stolen prescription pad. A quick phone call to 911 and he was soon led from the store, his. I felt my own orgasm approaching and sped up my thrusts into your willing pussy.“I’m going to come,” I announce breathlessly.You look me in the eye as I fuck you deeply. “Come on my tits.” You tell me. “Shoot your spunk over my big tits”.This drives me over the edge and I barely manage to get my cock out of your pussy before I start to spurt long strings of come, some of which I do manage to get over your tits.Satisfied, I lay back onto the bed, a feeling of post coital relaxation. You snuggle. More

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