Or when she had Coke with dinner, instead of milk – in which case she'd get a double dose on the morrow. But the practice developed into enough of a...compulsion for me that I experienced a degree of anxiety every day, nagging at me until the moment I witnessed my cum being safely taken into her petite body through her pouty lips and down her accepting throat. Weird, huh?However, like I said, the anxiety of a "collector" notwithstanding, doing the same thing every day got a little boring. Sure, I. She lay there weeping after he had gone. It was as if that part of her life was over. Dead. Just like Aunt Shirley's and Uncle Roger's marriage. Mom said they only stayed together because no one else would fight with them. It was a loveless relationship and painful to watch, especially at Thanksgiving. It filled her with dread to imagine her life like that.It never entered her mind not to go to the club today. To go to Mr. Smith. She would not have understood if someone would have tried to. More

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