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She gasped as she realized she was about to be groped for the first time. Her nipples hardening, Jean impatiently moved his hand up to caress her breast. Tom seemed shocked by her bravado, but took it in his stride.Five minutes later, both tops were off and jean was loving the feel of her breasts mashing against his warm body.They fell to the floor, and Jean gasped as she felt his bulge on her thigh. 'I'm losing control', she realized, but couldn't stop herself from wrestling with his trousers till they were down his legs and pushing her own trousers and knickers down. Tom whispered "hell yes ", seeing that Jean couldn't pull her eyes away from his thick, warm pole. She grabbed his dick, loving the feel of it, and pumped up and down."I need you inside me" she gasped, and he obliged by placing his dick at her entrance. HE started to push it in, but as the head slipped in her warm hole, Jean gasped. "NO!" she screamed and crawled away from him backwards. Scrambling to put her clothes. ”Tony walked in wearing a suit and tie. “Ok you two, time to get up for breakfast and I have to get to mass.”“Mass?” I said ignorantly.“It’s Sunday Brad,” said Marissa. “Tony’s going to church.”I made an “Oh” sound.“It’s an Italian thing Brad. Say, would you two like to join me? My mother would be thrilled to meet you and you’d make my uncle’s day to see Marissa again.” I knew that it would make his uncle’s day to see her; his uncle didn’t even care that I existed.“Isn’t Kaitlyn going?” I asked innocently.“Uh no, she’s not Catholic.” Tony gave me a ‘get real’ look. I suspected that his mother might not approve if he showed up with one of his girls.“Well, we’d better take a rain check ... Besides, it would take Marissa two hours to get ready.” I smiled at my wife who gave me a ‘you jerk’ look back. “But thanks for asking.”“Well, your breakfast is on the table, getting cold,” said Kaitlyn.“I have to drop her off and then get to church,” said our host. “Here’s a spare key. If you’d just.
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Icould barely see over the dash. As he talked, my little left hand strayedto his lap. I could feel him straining his jeans. We both glanced at each other as my fingers played with the zipper. Wewere way out on a country road with little traffic. I told myself Ididn't want to be doing this, that it only was to make sure he was happyand wouldn't use the paddle on me. Numb with myself, I pulled down thezipper of his jeans. I had a little trouble, fumbling to work his penisout of his underwear and into view. Again, I marveled at the size of himcompared to me and cringed at the thought of him putting it into mesomeday. My little hand was dwarfed as I began to stroke him. Hisbreathing became deeper and I worried we might go off the road. I played with him as we sped down the road, running my fingers around thehead and then down the shaft. He spoke softly, his voice a deep huskysound. He told me how he would protect me, how he loved me. I'd alwaysdreamt of a woman telling me that, but long.

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