Buddy smiled. “Cunt, go over to Frank and stick your ass in his face and spread your legs.”I hesitated for only a second. When I got in front of F...ank I turned my ass to him bent at the waist and kicked my leg out so wide I almost fell.Both Frank and Allen gasped.“Do you think that is worth the risk?”Frank swallowed hard and nodded.“Go ahead, touch her.” Buddy saidI looked back between my legs at my husband’s friend as he slowly reach out with a trembling hand and lightly ran his fingers over. She has laying on her back. Her little vest was unfastened and open, baring both tits, and her legs were wide open, allowing me to see that the crouch of her tiny panties was pulled totally into the slit of her cunt. For all intents and purposes she was totally naked. My breathing quickened and I pushed my shorts down over my ass and hardening cock and let them drop to the floor. I kicked them onto my bed as my hands grasped my prick and started pumping away. “Ahhhhhhhhhh,” I said softly, as I. A proud son of Mother Africa and the British Fatherland, that’s me. My father Luther Channing was an Englishman, my mother Edwina Franklin was African-American. They met in Boston during the summer of 1968 and got married in 1969. Two years later, I was born. They bought a nice townhouse in Boston’s Back Bay and built a life together. Dad worked as an engineer and mom was a college professor. I grew up in a loving household. Which is ironic considering what I do. Right now, I’m sitting on the. For a guy in his fifties, he didn't keep the place as clean as he should but he poured two shots of Jack and we slugged it down. “Come on,” he said, leading me toward the bedroom, but I asked to use the bathroom. I needed to pee. When I got to the bedroom, he was stripped to his boxers. He really was a large guy and he shoved me back onto the bed and helped me out of my jeans. He raised my legs as high as they could go and then dove right in. His goatee beard felt odd as he began hungrily.
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