He wanted his Bitch-Hand-Job, or the one she did yesterday, ‘Bitch-Blow’ something…, that was real nice, having his hard cock in her warm, food ...lace. But what was she wanting now? He was confused. Not knowing what else to do, he asked her. “Bark!”“Come on, Duke!” Claire cried in frustration. “Fuck-the-Bitch!” This wasn’t working. It was clear he didn’t know what to do, or she had trained him too well. Claire realized she had to show him.Claire lowered her ass and pushed herself between Duke’s. The roast was falling off the bone, and I was certainly satiated when we pushed our chairs back from the table, and did the clean up after dinner.Living in the warm and humid environment of Florida meant that we had bug issues — everything from fire ants, to huge cockroaches — so Audrey and I were meticulous about cleaning off our plates and utensils, and putting them into the dishwasher right after we ate.Audrey grabbed a diet soda, walked into the living room, and sat in the brown leather. More

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