“Thank you Bryn. I appreciate this.”Oh god, I could feel my rock hard cock pressing into her belly, and I knew she had to feel it. I stammered out...“Anytime, Mrs. Fisher.” I added, feeling her tits against my chest.She stepped away, her hands on my shoulders, and she said “If I find anything else that needs fixed, I’ll give you a call, okay?”I grinned, “Yes, no problem.”She squeezed my shoulders, and said “Good, thanks again.” as she walked by me towards the front door. She opened it and as I. Holy Shit! I was mesmerized!It was a wooden bat, a Louisville Slugger, no newfangled aluminum bat. I admired her traditionalism. There, placed neatly on top of the dresser next to a baseball covered with Atlanta Braves' autographs, was the same full sized bat. How convenient. I picked it up and took a whiff. It smelled faintly of pussy, and I noticed it was signed by none other than Hank Aaron. Noting that he is the home-run-king, I could not help but laugh out loud, figuring she'd probably. More

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