“Name and insurance card, please,” she routinely demanded, despite carrying a half-amused, half-'no that again' undertone.“Uh, Robert,” he whi...pered, trying desperately to appear as inconspicuous as possible. “...uh... Rayleigh,” he completed his embarrassed elaborations as he went through the various cards in his wallet, looking for the right one.The receptionist chuckled when she saw what insurance she was going to bill. “Thank you. You may take a seat,” she emphasized the last part, knowing. She felt it as he fucked hard and fast and as deep as he could. She pulled her knees up and opened her legs as far as possible, so that he could bury himself in her fiery pit of love and passion.Hot and excited, beside herself with lust, she came and came, and then she felt the gushing flow of her son's hot spurting charge. Bucking and jerking, her son's fabulous cock sent spurt after spurt of his manseed into her still convulsing pussy.Irma's mind was reeling so that she was only vaguely aware. He was in his early fifties, about six feet tall and a muscular and fit 190 pounds. He had salt and pepper hair and piercing blue eyes but what interested me most was what he was rubbing through his pants.My face was perfectly positioned at the level of his crotch so I was excited to have a front row seat as he reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Slowly he pulled the zipper down as my pulse increased. I always love this part, the actual reveal of the object of my lust. His growing package. Her body had been so alive when Colette walked into the kitchen that she felt like she had to slam on the brakes to keep her from pouncing on her magnetic hostess.Then when Colette told her she had found the bag of panties on the table and heard the orgiastic shrieks coming from the bedroom she went into a confused self-righteous funk. Having surrendered so completely to her son’s unfathomable scandalous seduction, she pictured him being instructed by the naked Colette in the extreme ways he.
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