the bad guys diane foxington

I retrieved my bag that had some clean running clothes in it and returned to the master shower. I turned on the water, steaming hot, stripped, opened the glass door and stepped in. I thought at the time it was a nice shower, but I know now it was a typical tract house cubical. I was thankful for the opportunity to jack off, as my cock had been rock hard since Mrs. B’s dress rode up, exposing her lovely thighs when she got in the car. I was just soaping up my dick to get some relief when I was startled by the opening of the shower door. Mrs. B. stepped into the shower, naked, holding a plastic cup. She handed me the cup.

Daddy was incredible, with stamina that truly had to be seen to be believed, but not even he could resist my tight little pussy forever. He started groaning, his grip on my ass tightening noticeably. I tiredly pushed myself up from Mommy's chest, and just as we'd planned. Daddy reached under to grab me by my titties instead, squeezing hard and lifting me to pin me back against his chest, kissing me passionately on the lips as I turned to meet him over my shoulder. Mommy didn't know where to look, eyes darting rapidly between our kiss, my titties, and the huge, throbbing monster violently reaming my tiny, delicate little hole. I knew where my attention would have been focused! But she was still too blown away to be thinking clearly yet, so as I felt Daddy getting even closer I decided to help her out.

“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.