You hang up the phone; clean yourself up and set about making sure Michelle is presentable to her husband if her asks to see her. You've got a feeling...that he will. You wash your cum off her feet and then turn her over on her side and stick the nozzle of the hose up her ass and flush her until the water is clear. You then dry her off; turn her on her back again, place her hands across her chest and cover her with a sheet.Brad Marsten arrives and you let him in. You express your deepest sympathy. "Oh, fuck you," she grinned and threw a pillow at me. "Who are you to talk?"Who was I? That was turning out to be a very good question."Anyway, thank you," I said, leaning across the couch to kiss her on the check and sitting back with another gift in my hands, one from "Dad and Mom (Tiffany)." Tiffany. That figured.It was an empty picture frame, with a gold inset inscribed "Marshall High School — 2006 State Champions." It's for that picture you have in your room," Tiffany bubbled. "We can hang. More

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