My kind of friends. I’m tired of looking out at the neighbors and seeing their visiting company coming and going all day long. It makes me feel like...a reclusive anti-social person not to be surrounded by well wishers during the holiday season. Where did my life go so wrong? What happened? I don’t deserve this. I’ve always been a generous, loving, and compassionate man. With no one to invite to visit me, I decided to decorate my dining room chairs with houseguests. That’s right. I plan on. My lips lower against the nape of your neck, touching you only with the lightest caress of my soft mouth. My hands glide over your sides, softly feeling your warm curves as my fingers leave trails of my lust up your body. The fight to remain quiet fails and you sigh a little. Slowly I unhook your bra, releasing your beautiful breasts to the air, to my lustful sight. My fingers again return to your sides to touch the places I missed because of your brassiere. Finger tips slowly inch their way. She never explained the chains and hooks located around the ceiling, and her children nor guests had ever asked. The old rocker her daughter had brought her when she’d begun to slow down sat silent in the corner, as though waiting for someone to claim it, to make it speak its own easy language. It had remained unused day in and day out since its arrival. Kiley had appreciated the gesture, but her place remained in the pillows, waiting. Abigail, their daughter, had tried to get her to settle. He touched his cock head to her asshole and pressed slightly. “Not yet, baby. Let’s go to your room.” They both went to his room without bothering drying off. Phoebe had thought ahead and left a bottle of lube on Billy’s bed. Billy saw the lube and knew exactly what to do. “Get up on the bed and bend over like a doggie,” he ordered. She obediently obeyed and stuck her tiny firm ass way up in the air. Drops of water were dripping down on her naked ass and followed gravity to her beautiful crack..
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