Down below, her hand gripped my cock at the base again and started milking it like a cow’s teat. I gasped at the hot river of sensual gratification ...lowing into every fibre of my body. Jill, my deceased wife, hadn’t believed in hand jobs either. Was she to look down at me now she’d be learning a thing or two. The thought made up for a lot — like the missionary position being the only way she had been prepared to perform her marital duty with me. Sex was distasteful to her if it got any more. That was when my Bison friend suggesting said, “He, John the doctor took to the cave for some adjustments.”Her almost cruel manner to which she suggested my good friend was to become some forest animal for the hunt, made me mad. I started to yell, and with that, she rushed at me and knocked me down to the ground. Angrily she told how echoes might alert the doctor of my presence and if he heard…!I continued to struggle until she forced me to be quiet by shoving one of her black breast nipples as. More

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