He drove a beat-up F-150. The back pocket of his jeans had a faded circle revealing the customary location of his Copenhagen can. (And yes, I liked to...stare at his tight ass!) It's true he had a sensitive side. He was a journalism major, a writer for the college paper. But he had southern manners and a southern drawl ("yes, ma'am") and a crew cut to match. We had to wear dress shirts and ties while on shift, but instead of the all-cotton Oxfords and silk ties I preferred he always showed up. I don't want it to be Aunt Jo, or my mother, or anyone else she can think of."Jason did not want to glance at the clock for fear of giving her the wrong idea, but he had to leave very soon. "Do I have time to think about this?"Melinda looked stricken, but she sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I thought you'd jump at the chance to have me prance around naked and wet all the time."Jason's cock swelled, and his lips curled into a small smile. "I admit the idea is rather tantalizing. I love how. More

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