wedgie man

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

On an impulse, I withdrew my tongue and moved my index finger over her anal opening and pushed gently. Her anus spread under the pressure and I pushed my finger inside her virgin ass.“Whoa! What are…?”

Sarah leaned down, her face right above the base of his cock and smelled it. It was like heaven. She pushed her nose down onto his cock inhaling as she rubbed it up along the underside, relishing the slow burn. Finally reaching the head of his dick her nose pressed up against something wet and she pulled away. A long string of precum stretched up from his dick to the end of her nose. Breaking it midway with her fingers she gathered the strand around her hand and brought it to her nose and smelled. This was the purest the smell had been. Though every part of father’s body smelled unique, it had a general musk to it, and this little smear of precum on her knuckles was nothing but that musk.