”“What sort of moniker is that?”“They’re my initials: James Arthur Smith. Jas is much cooler.”“Ok, Jas. How’d you like to meet Kitty?�...�“Your cat?”“Sort of. Follow me.” Tom lead the way into the kitchen.Kitty was still fast asleep under the table. Tom leaned forwards and whispered: “Kitty, Kitty. Wake up sweetie – there’s someone here to see you.” The figure stirred slightly, but made no attempt to sit up.Jas looked on dumbfounded. On the rug he saw the coiled-up figure of a slim young woman of. He continued to feed that cock to me in slow strokes that constantly plugged my throat, and the way his body shook when he embedded that meat in my throat told me of his revel in my occasional deep nostril inhales and the times he felt me have to gulp for breath between thrusts. Once I noticed he yet again got full into feeding it to me, I uncovered my cock and again began to beat it. I didn’t get many strokes in before he took another look down at it. I didn’t want to lose that cock again, so. More

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