When my truck pulled up, you were waiting in the open doorway. I don't know if you meant to show it, but I could see the relief in your eyes seeing me...in one piece. You walked out to meet me, told me I was late and took my bag in the house. I knew what being late meant. Every minute I was late meant one more; that was only for the first half-hour. Anything after that was two for each minute. That meant I racked up...sixty, one hundred twenty...shit! Almost one hundred sixty extra and that. He drew out until only the tip of his massive tool was in her slot, paused and then pushed slowly back up the slippery channel. Jackie writhed on his cock, panting. He gave her a second slow stroke, dipping his knees and feeding the pork to her with an under-slung stroke. Jackie pushed her loins out to meet him with a counterpoint pelvic jolt. Foley corkscrewed in on the third stroke, screwing his great pecker into her lustily. She matched his movements, rotating her hips and rippling her cunt. More

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