. no. You really couldn't call it golf. What I was playing would have to be called 'Swearing At A Little Ball And Beating It Into The Ground With A Cl...b.'" Oh," was all she said, without even the faintest flicker of humor lighting her face. OK, I'm no comedian, so maybe it wasn't funny.When Uncle Don came out of the bathroom, I went in, carrying the jogging shorts he had lent me the night before, and my clean tank top Aunt Linda had laid out on the back of the couch. While I was in there I. . GOD!" I wailed as my orgasm slammed into me like a freight train. My thighs shook like guitar strings that had been plucked - it was a damn good thing I was laying over his desk, there is no way I could have stood up right then! After Mark had pumped the last of his sweet cum deep in my pussy, he pulled out of me and allowed me to stand. I turned and faced him, kissing him deeply and clinging to him as if I was drowning. Which, in reality, I was... I was drowning in love for that man! He sat. More

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