Carson didn’t care about anything other than Karen Foley. Everything about her was perfect, as though Carson himself had been in the workshop when G...d had set about choosing the parts which would make up Karen’s perfection. It wasn’t that she was perfect in a Playboy centrefold sense; it was just that she was perfect for Carson. Her laugh was more infectious than measles; her smile more warming than nuclear piles. Carson’s thoughts and dreams had been infiltrated to the point where he could. Besides, when Bill’s cock gets deep in my throat like that, I really have no leverage to work his cock. I can’t use my hands to guide him, can’t use my tongue, and there’s no room to give him the kind of motion that stimulates him. So I didn’t bother trying to get any more of his cock in my mouth. I concentrated on working my hot mouth up and down his shaft, snaking my tongue around his shaft with each plunge. I looked up, and was gratified to see that Bill’s eyes were screwed shut as he. More

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