”“Excellent.”A positive response, but not exactly the reinforcement that ... oh well.Fuck.I was back home, back in my beloved Kansas City. Walke... was still ga-ga over my Dutch Boy Bob. And what’s resided below it, of course.Matt texted me on that Samsung from Craigslist. “Pay phone.”I rode down courtesy of Nature Boy and Edwina. He was erect again, more common these days than not. These nights, I guess. It was a little after eleven. Midnight for Matt.I exited the Wrigley lobby, automatically. ‘The door!’ Val shrieked. ‘You broke the fucking door down! Anyone could wander in!’ ‘Easy! Take it easy!’ Marty said, trying to calm her. ‘It’s the bedroom door, the front door is closed. I closed it myself.’ ‘You broke the door down to get to me?’ she said, more to herself then to him. ‘Yeah… I did,’ he said, confirming the obvious fact. ‘That’s… that’s so fucking beautiful….’ Val’s eyes were filled with appreciative tears at this act that she suddenly considered the most caviler action she. "Then when I ask' him how could he prove I was the daddy, he pulled out that old gun of his and stuck it under my nose and said, 'This is all the proof I need.' He said as how there never had been a bastard in the Daly family, there wasn't goin to be one now."So I told him that maybe they wasn't no bastards in the Daly family but they was sure some sons of bitches. And you know what? That old son of a bitch hit me with the barrel of that old Colt. I was still havin' a sore head when we got. Her nipples hardened against her blouse, her tongue flicking across her lips. Her brown eyes burned. “I am so glad you're here. You look like you're in need of satisfaction.”Every futa in the room straightened up. Stacie Ward was sitting nearest me. The purple-haired futa arched her eyebrows at me. Her tongue flicked across her lips in such a suggestive manner. My pussy clenched as I remembered her promise earlier.“I need satisfaction!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I couldn't control.
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