”“Probably. I think I need to do my thing at a low level.”“Maybe. We’ll see. Talk to those people.”“I’ll call on Monday.”“Call tom...rrow,” she argued. “I worry about you. That’s my burden,” she laughed.Saturday, I made a couple of phone calls. One was to something called the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, which was a national group with a local chapter, and the other was a local group, the West Georgia Veterans Coalition. I got addresses and a couple of guys volunteered to meet me in. I was really moaning now and so close to cumming, in fact in some reasoning, we all were, as daddy puled his hand from my yielding orb, he pushed forward and released a load of semen across my breasts and stomach, while the warmth from deep inside my pussy, indicated, the married friend was ejaculating his wives load onto the bottom of my vagina. My own orgasm could have awoken the dead, my dead man’s clutch on his withdrawing cock as I gripped him in my spasm, reminded him of the lost pleasure. More

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