knuckles the dread

“Are you stupid?” she hissed at me. “Go to the fitting room. I’ll be there in a minute. And lose the pants.” The light finally went on for me and I raced back to the fitting room. All the doors to the stalls were open, so no one else was there. I quickly stripped out of my pants and underwear and stroked my cock to its full glory. I was admiring my dick in the full length mirror when there was a soft knock at the door.“Sir? I have some other items for you to try. May I open the door?”

As carefully as she could, she untangled herself from his legs and slipped out of his bed and made for the door. As she walked back to her room her mind was doing somersaults.What was she thinking?Why did it smell so good?What if he woke up?How would I even explain myself?Did I taste it?I need to smell it again.Why can’t I get the taste out of my mind?

“Hold this,” she said. “I’ll hold your dick.” I have since seen many naked women in person, but Mrs. B. was one of the most memorable. Pure white, lightly freckled skin, perky B-cup tits, trimmed, fiery red pussy hair matching her long, red tresses. “Take a drink,” she invited, smiling warmly at me as she stroked my soapy shaft and played with my balls. The drink was vodka and OJ, strong but not incapacitating. I chugged about half and offered it to Mrs. B. She chugged the rest, set down the cup and returned to playing with my cock and balls.“God, you look beautiful, Mrs. B. So hot.”