Get busy boys or you’re not leaving here.”We had often imagined such a scenario but none of us ever really thought that it would happen. I gave my...wife a hug and a kiss before I grabbed Jill and carried her over behind the bar. I didn’t need to show everyone how much I wanted her and I didn’t need to see who was fucking my wife either.Jill just smiled up at me as I grabbed a pony bottle of Rolling Rock beer, shook it, and thrust the foaming neck into her used pussy. It was a warm beer douche. I. See in your book: ‘Mary Smith, ninth grade.’”“Don’t get lippy with me, young woman! How’d you like to be in the ninth grade next year. Then you wouldn’t have Sarah to copy from.” He was thinking fast. She’d end up over his lap, but she should play at being forced to it.“Aren’t you ending a sentence with a preposition Mr. Brown?”“On the other hand, you could be in the eighth grade next year.” Okay. That was the way they’d play it. She’d be a ninth-grade girl in a one-room school. Still, it would. More

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