“More,” I demanded. He laughed a bit, low so I couldn’t hear him very well. He obviously didn’t want me to know who he was. At this point, I ...m not so sure it is my husband. The scent from the shirt is slowly making its way to my brain. The shirt smells delicious, but not wholly familiar as my husband's scent should be. Then he was finger fucking me with two fingers, slowly. I moan in pleasure. “More, faster,” I asked with a moan. He pushes three fingers inside, slowly at first with an. Marcia by contrast wasn't at all surprised. Vickers was just like his photo. No Brad Pitt or anything, but definitely more than ok, and despite the standard prison issue garb she could tell that he had an excellent physique.Not bad at all, thought Marcia. She congratulated herself on her selection.She told Jennings that she was fine, that she'd see him back there at five o'clock, and he nodded and got back into the car.The guard drove off, leaving Marcia and the prisoner stood together on the. More

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