‘Shoes or dresses?’ I asked, toying with her on purpose. ‘Both, of course, dammit!’ she replied. I held up eight fingers for the dresses and f...ve for the shoes. Greta nearly fell off her chair. ‘So what kinds of kinky hijinks did you get into to land this loot?’ she asked. ‘Well, since all I had worn to pick him up at the airport was a trench coat and my fake Loubotins and a backup dress I left in the back seat, he figured I’d need something to wear to go out to see Madeleine Peyroux in a. But the thought of striking out with farm girls wasn't appealing either then i might as well stay home and stroke my cock until i shot cum every where. At the very least i could go come home if i struck out and still be able to masturbate until i shot my load with out my mother yelling at me for being a naughty boy. Yes my mother had caught me several times stroking my cock looking at porno magazines and i caught hell for it each time . But what she didn't realize was the guy she was fucking. More

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