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”And I had hammered it home—grabbing and gripping Kayla’s hips and pulling her to me in counterpoint to my pumping, her pretty cheeks quaking. I shot off inside her and had howled out in triumph—one more blasting load, my load, my fucking load into the pussy of a sweet looking, big boobed little vixen. I had stayed inside that pussy for a while and rubbed lovingly over her back, ass, shoulders, cherishing this pleasure giving woman. Now, I must confess that in deciding with whom I had the best sexual experience for September presented a little bit of a conundrum. As mentioned toward the end of my last blog describing my best fuck in August, Helen and I had arranged to meet weekly on Wednesdays. We had a couple of great rounds in September, getting together for our regularly scheduled “Hump Day” fuck sessions. Plus, my bed buddy Stella and I spent two very nice days in Jamaica Beach on Galveston Island where we first met several months ago. Stella’s two dress shops had been. They walked towards it with the hope of something to eat, or at the least something to drink. They soon found that the Buggery Dinar went considerably further in Buggery than it would have done in Throb, and much further again than it would have done at home. In fact, they found that they were carrying a relative fortune around with them.It wasn't that easy to find anything edible to buy though. Both of them had mostly subsisted on take-aways and microwaveable dishes at home here, and the only thing on sale they knew what to do with was the battered and unappealing fruit they could see. But they managed to buy some apples, oranges, a packet of tasteless biscuits and a couple of bottles of distilled water on which the King's face was prominently displayed. There was no Coke. Or even Pepsi or Dr Pepper's. There were no hamburgers, pizzas, hot dogs or doner kebabs. Not even a pasty or a bag of chips. But what they had was undeniably food and it certainly filled some of the hole they.
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