Putting all that away, I lifted my head from his cock, kissed his snout one more time, and uttered a throaty, “Okay, boy, time to make me a bitch.�...I turned on my hands and knees, spreading my knees wide and pointing my ass right into his face. He stretched his neck up, again picking up my scent, and scrambled onto his feet. That delightful and thrilling tongue was active again on my wet and ready opening. I sighed and moaned as he licked with enthusiasm, but as wonderful as this was feeling and. It was one of my passions. In one job I held a screwdriver and in the other cutting shears. I was a complex woman, a woman men didn’t want to get to know. I wasn’t needy enough, I made my own money, had my own place, and drove my own car. My reoccurring thought was men want an independent woman until they meet one… I went to bed dreaming of him again. A similar, if not the same dream, for the past 6 months. I was walking down the aisle, only this time I was the bride and all eyes were on me. I. More

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