She idly tapped her fingers on a stack of papers, as she thought. It took her several minutes to realize what she thumping on. It was the file for her...story on local prostitution. She smiled to herself as a plan began to form in her mind. It was oh so naughty, but it might be what the little bitch needed. She started humming to herself as she opened the folder, found the number she was looking for, picked up the phone and started dialing the number. ‘Hello, Monique?’ she said, when someone. "Men do not wear dresses," she said to him coldly. "Your name is Herbert and not Helen. Now go put on your own clothes this instant."The man had never liked his wife's cold, scolding voice. He liked it even less on a sunny morning while wearing his favourite dress. He stood there staring quizzically at her for a moment."Men do not wear dresses," she repeated more loudly this time."I am not a man," he answered in a forced falsetto. "My name is Helen and this is my dress. I like it very much.". This time I just increased my grip on his penis and also sped up the up and down motion on his cock and within a few seconds we were both rewarded by a surprisingly voluminous cumshot. It was a bit more watery than usual but there was a lot of it. I didn’t think to count them but there had to be at least 10 or 12 separate spurts of semen. And the first couple of shots were quite powerful. I was able to keep most of the semen spurting onto his body with one of the first shots hitting his face. I. I hugged and kissed her in the usual way. I wanted her to wank me off? Yes, I had a serious problem.Tommy's log cabin was quite close and although it was the small hours I was certain that he would be pleased to see me. When I arrived I was surprised to see there was a light on. The cabin door was never locked so I let myself in. I never said a word he just knew it was me. He was laying on top of his bed and was as naked as I was. He was clearly stiff had I timed my arrival perfectly or was the.
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