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He was her wailing wall. The world could fall down around her, as it had a tendency to do over time, her father’s death, her sister’s nasty divorc..., her husband’s distance, her own children’s betrayals, but David was a constant, her rock. She worshipped his shaft as if it were holy, and to her, that is exactly what it was. Her tongue surfacing it, every ridge and vein, the entire length, a sweet and silent invocation, again and again and again. His moans of pleasure fed her like nothing else. “Oh no, no, no,” she protested, backing onto the couch and away from the ebony monster. “That thing is massive. It won’t fit inside of me. No way.” And yet, she could not look away. It was obsidian black, battle-tested, ready for more.Ken lingered, neither pressing forward nor retreating. Mrs. Thomas, the bewitching and intoxicating sexual savant to whom he owed so much, had taught him that with patience, reluctance transformed to curiosity, and curiosity bred lust. She had introduced him to. More

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