Gerald was wobbly on his feet as he watched Judy's head moving closer and closer to his prick. He had never been blown before but knew from talking to...his friends just what to expect. Before he could digest the novel experience, Judy had closed her lips around his swollen rod, brushing her tongue ever so gently against the supersensitive flesh of his purple knob.And then her head began to bob up and down, taking in more of the succulent flesh with every stroke. Already she could taste a drop of. " He said. "My crime was vigilantism for thinking myself as high as the law, and as wise." He pointed at his back. "These," He said, "are not my punishment, they were but a reminder. My punishment is seeing those children as I sleep, and passing the widow when I go to Winlow's Crossing, and seeing the gravestones in the cemetery there." He sneered at himself. "My punishment is living with what I had done to them, not to him." But it was not your doing, solely." She said, trying to defend him. More

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