She leaned in and whispered, “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”Auntie Pru had learned that addressing me in direct terms was often more profitabl.... I nodded again.Wednesday night, eve of G-Day, Louise Lane called Pru at home. “I see, Louise. No, don’t be silly, don’t even think about it.”She looked at Peggy, “Flu.”My mother said, “Ms. Sloane.”Auntie Pru nodded, “Of course,” and looked at me, “Fucking mouth closed.”Gibraltar Soup, which no longer makes much soup, or maybe they do, it’s just not. "You're a fucking sissy whore, aren't you?" he asked as he gripped the top of my head, using his other hand to slap his now 8-inch dick on either side of my painted face. "Open bitch," he growled, and then proceeded to slide himself in balls deep.My gag reflex kicked in, but I tried fighting it back. He seemed to enjoy the sounds I made, though - and I could definitely feel him getting harder whenever my throat spasmed. He would sink his cock all the way in, and then let it sit, giving me time. More

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