I heard it's some shit." Yep," Dad agreed thoughtfully, taking a drag off what was probably his fiftieth cigarette of the day. "That's what I heard to...."Marla and I had been sitting on the couch about six feet away, quietly discussing a Pat Conroy book that we had both just read. Marla was wearing one of her typical outfits that night: a pair of tight shorts and a halter-top that showed off a good portion of her generous cleavage. Though I had been holding up my end of the conversation it had. I pass my tongue up and down her, teasing as much as I dare, and tasting the flow of her arousal. At first I didn’t notice she was pulling my trousers down to my thighs with her feet, but as I slipped a couple of fingers into her hot, wet, pussy she manoeuvres her feet around my now exposed cock, and begins to delicately rub up and down my hardening shaft with her bare feet. She is manipulating my cock perfectly, skilfully exposing the glans, and performing the most erotic massage I can. More

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