Breakfast next morning was taken in dressing gowns in a grey kitchen, rain lashing at the window, and she remarked that “it was lucky it had not been the day before as the sailing would have been a ruin.” He replied that “her shirt would indeed have been wet and no doubt she would not have got away with just a blow job” and they laughed together the worries of the world temporarily forgotten. She suddenly asked about the letter received yesterday and he glanced at the clock, “yeh you`d better get ready soon he suggested,” standing and collecting the plates and placing them in the sink. He took her to their room, eased the dressing gown from her shoulders, and surveyed her body with a smooth eye. She asked “why he was looking at her as hard as he was” and his reply took her by surprise when he said, “that after their visitor today she may not look so perfect and he wanted to remember her as she was now!” A tinge of fear ran through her and she knew he had arranged that she. He pulled her head toward him, slid between her lips. She could taste her own shit. He pushed it in as far as he’d been before, then pulled back, did that a couple more times. Then he let it slide a little farther back in Crissy’s mouth, groaned as he felt it wedge between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. A couple more strokes like that. Then he pushed harder, holding Crissy’s head, shoving as far back into her mouth as he could. He could feel her nose brush against his pubic hair, his balls slapped against her chin. Shit, he had his cock all the way in her mouth. The head pushed back into her throat. Fuck that was so tight! Crissy gagged and her throat closed over the head of his cock. Dave’s balls throbbed. Dave pulled back and Crissy coughed, choked, trying to get her breath. He drove back into her throat. She gagged again, he body jerked. This was better than anything Dave could remember, because Crissy’s throat was smaller and tighter. He pulled back until just the head of.
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