Or maybe it’s a little house with big rooms ... anyway, Mrs. Ferguson answered the kitchen door.“Hello Karen. Come in.”“Mrs. Ferguson.”“Gw...n, please.”We sat at the table, she had a selection of beauty shop brochures and color charts laid out on the white enameled kitchen table.“I thought we’d do it in here ... the colors show up better against white. Let me look at you.”And she did ... very close.She muttered, “Uh huh, oh my, very good ... not blonde. Blonde wouldn’t work at all. Oh ... such. . fucking . . . dick." Lisa, I love the way you talk." We could've found a back room somewhere in the church, and I would've eaten your semen off my tits. I wanted you so bad. UH, baby!" Lisa's words, her steady, bouncing pace, it all built, fueling me somewhere uncontrollable, a second surge. My stomach tightened and I fucked back into her as she came down. "Yes, YES!"I hissed up at her: "I would've cum on your fucking white veil. Made a fucking sperm mess on you, you looked so gorgeous."Lisa. More

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