I squeezed a ribbon of the clear gel across my cock like I was slapping mustard on a brat at the ballpark. Jesus, it felt good, stroking my greasy coc... for her.“Am I doing it right?” I asked her, and I knew I was because her eyes were locked on my hand, sliding up and down my slick pole, and I could hear her breathing becoming louder as she continued to play with herself, punctuated every so often by sharp little gasps as she watched me thrust my hips and stroke my aching shaft.“Yes,” she. “That man of yours, he’s a gambler. I don’t like him,” he had said.“Dad, Greg is a stockbroker, a successful one at that.”“No matter how you dress it, it’s gambling. With higher stakes. Mark my words. There will be one day when he’s lost everything, your money, your home, your happiness. Don’t you come cryin’ to me then.”No. Not such a good idea. Amanda pulled her cell from her jacket and dialed her sister’s number.“Yes?” a female voice asked.“Hey Grace, it’s me.”“Amanda! How are you,. More

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