I was a writer, not a singer. I entered the basement through the outside door, like I normally did. It was empty, but I could hear shuffling coming fr...m the kitchen, so I decided to wait on them. The garage walls were lined with the usual garden paraphernalia and I could see that Devon had been working on the lawnmower. The drums took up most of the spare space and the bass had seen better days, patched with duct tape, they looked like a Frankenstein creation. As I was looking around, the boys. Visibly. She giggled. Then she grabbed the strings on her bottoms and tugged them. Her bottoms fell away and her creamy flesh was bare in front of me. She smirked and leaned back on my bed. She cocked one knee up and leaned back. Her arms raised above her head. He breasts sticking up. Her legs spread, giving me a perfect view of her glistening pussy. The folds were slick. She ran her hands over her body.I couldn’t take it anymore. My trunks came off in a flash. My throbbing dick sprung out.. More

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