"Iron gall ink, made with vinegar," sighed Bob."Applied with a quill pen that didn't scratch the surface of the paper," said Brady."You're sure." Now ...ob wasn't asking a question. He was urging Brady to agree."The color of the ink where the stroke started is consistently darker than where the quill started to unload," said Brady. "The only thing that can cause that kind of fading is time. It's old. It's sixteenth century. I'll bet money on it." Shit!" said Bob, excitedly."It will be worth it to. She had faced a lot of things over the years and always won out. A droplet of sperm hung from her pussy lips. Her lips now swollen from the force of their fucking. She reached down and removed the drop with her finger and held it up to her face, studying it. She closed her eyes and slowly opened her mouth and touched her tongue to the droplet. She closed her mouth tasting the salty-sweetness of her son’s cum.With a bit more resolve, she opened the bathroom door and shuffled out and over to. More

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