The preacher's wife was on her knees sucking his cock. He could still taste her pussy juices on his lips and tongue, and now her head was bobbing up a...d down his shaft. He heard the preacher's voice and his wife's slurping noises at the same time. Jack pulled his cock from her mouth and lifted her to her feet, spun her around, pushed her so she was bent over the table, lifted her dress over her back, and rammed his cock into her pussy in one shove."Aarrgghhhh," the preacher's wife cried out at. But he’d left thinking vaguely that she had been nervous or he had perhaps, and that it would be better next time. But he always felt like that, it never seemed to get better, never seemed to grow into passion. Like all her actions and movements sex was restricted to the minimum. She had to get the most she could from it, from the effort she expended on it. She came economically, never making any sound or moving more than was necessary. So that sometimes Ray felt as if the heaving, panting,. More

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