thickerwasp

Carol laughed as her tight pussy squeezed my flaccid cock out on to the kitchen counter. “Why yes, Jim, yes it was good,” she giggled in a mocking voice. “You’re so cute.” She pulled up her legs and put her feet on the counter, leaning back on her elbows. I was hypnotized watching my semen drip out of her fiery red hole. “You came a lot, didn’t you?” She flexed her pussy muscles sending a healthy gush of cum onto the kitchen counter. “Next time I’m going to make you clean me up.” Again with the “next time…” She spun over onto all fours and slid off the island. “But your cum is so yummy I want every drop.” She leaned over and began eagerly lapping up my jizz. I moved closer behind her to watch her bobbing head. I slapped her ass a couple of times with my limp cock. Not missing a beat as she cleaned the island of my cum, Carol reached back with both hands and spread her ass for me. “Put your dick in my crack. I want you hard again. We’re not done yet.”

“Just so we're perfectly clear, Brianna,” she purred wickedly, extending her long, sinuous tongue and seductively licking a glob of cum from where it had landed on my cheek. “I have video cameras all over this little playroom of mine. I'm going to let you go tonight, but you're going to come back to me, once a week. You should be thankful for that—that's hardly anything, compared to how often you and your friends made me take care of you! But I know you have a wife now, and coming here any more than that would risk her finding out, and ruining it all. So, you're going to come back once a week, and you're going to let me do anything I want to you, and you're going to do everything I say. Because if you don't, I will send the video to your wife, and your boss, and your co-workers... everyone you know, Brianna! And rest assured, it will be a slightly edited version, showing only how eager you were for everything I just did to you, none of the parts explaining how I coerced you into doing it!

“Let me give you a ride, Jim. You don’t even need to change.” I said thanks and grabbed my stuff. I climbed into the passenger side. Mrs. B. was driving one of the massive cars of the day, a Delta 88 or something. She turned out of the school parking lot, turning away from the the way to my house. “I want to pick up something at my house first. Give you a chance to see where I live.”