Saggy Baggy
Saggy-Baggy By Ross Martin A bloke I'll refer to as Sam invited me to his place for a few drinks andto meet the wife. He lived in a dead end street a bit of a distance from hisnearest neighbor. At the time I didn't thing this odd. All up, it was a modest little house with a porch out front and a swing outback. Sam rang the door bell and, within seconds, I was looking at a womanin her mid-fifties with a crooked but inviting smile, down caste hazel eyes,short curly black hair and tits and...