Horse Loving Farm WivesChapter 7
Mike's eyes were closed, his head tilted back, panting and wheezing from his open mouth. He had come so hard that he was semiconscious, his vitality squirted from his prick. His prick continued to sway indecisively. It looked like a cobra rising from a basket and swaying to the movement of the fakir's flute, Claire thought. And Claire had a hairy basket into which that cobra could go. It was the same way that it had happened with her friend Molly, that spiraling descent into naughtiness....