"How 'bout this?" Joe said, pointing to a slatted circular tub of weathered gray wood.JoJo laughed. "What is it?" Beats me," Joe answered. "Maybe some...kind of cider press. See the hole down here. I bet that's where the juice would drip."JoJo studied the hole. "I don't know," she said. "I guess we could make it into a planter."Now Joe laughed. JoJo could make just about anything into a planter. "Forget it," he said good- naturedly.Next was a table of knickknacks and odds and ends. "Hey," said. I lay back, and she sat up facing me with her thighs around my legs keeping herself impaled on my cock and steadying herself by placing her hands on my chest, her nails just gripping the flesh. She stared at me and began grinding. Small circular motions at first but then widening them out and increasingly up and down. She controlled every contraction and every thrust. Bringing me closer with every exquisite twist and turn. The oils made it difficult for me to grip Debbie so I had no choice. More

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