He knew. He stood, frozen with panic. Listening over the rain, he could hear fingernails eagerly scratching into the wooden surface of the lid, it’s...occupant desperate to get out. Yet still he didn’t budge. Slowly, the congregation continued to move away, gradually walking back to their cars, ignoring him as he stood over the precipice. Only the deceased’s Wife remained behind, head lowered, her dry eyes transfixed on the dirt smothered coffin, watching the parchment she’d offered as it soaked. ”“Well ok then” Jemma simply says as she pulls down my shorts, releasing my now nearly deflated cock. “Looks like we’ll have to take care of this.”Jemma grabs hold of my dick while looking at Miranda and asks “so what do you think, should I stroke it or suck it to bring it back to life?”“Um, stroke it and then suck it, i guess?” Miranda answers, unaware her participation was needed.Jemma looks down for a second, then lets go of my cock and crawls up to Mirandas lap, and stares into her eyes for. More

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