I almost felt like whistling a tune, but it felt weird knowing that the only tunes I could really whistle were from the Frank Sinatra and big band era... unless it was a TV theme song. The good mood lasted until I was walking up the steps to the porch, and then it didn't go away so much as get washed over with the somber memory of why I was here at this house. Cooper James had lost his parents, and what remained of their lives together were here, and it was up to me to honor their memories for. He used my breasts for leverage, pulling me up and down on top of him. I bounced on his cock, savouring every thrust of his hips to meet mine. He began to stroke my clit, exposed as his large cock opened my lips as it slid in and out of me. It was intense, a little too intense and rough for my usual taste, but I couldn’t stop squeezing on his cock, circling my hips, not letting his cock move an inch out of my tight cunt. I could feel myself building up, almost over the edge. I told him not to. More

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