He looked down into the lap she couldn't close because of the fishing rod and gazed at her twat. He looked into the loose cup of her halter, too, and ...he knew he could see her pink nipple at the end of her tit. She knew it because she could see it herself.She couldn't make any adjustments herself. She sure wasn't going to ask Matt to make them. And she didn't dare call her mother over to cover her up for fear of setting her off again.And then she wondered why she would bother covering up her. No obligations," I reassured her, then she was gone. At least she didn't call me Yonson.The bedroom didn't look too bad, but even so I spent some time straightening covers, gathering towels, and closing up the mirrored ceiling. My dick, of course, was still hard as a rock. Or at least a high-pressure garden hose. I went to the bathroom, washed myself, undertook five minutes of non-sexual meditation, and took a pee.Vivian had taken a Coke and a sandwich from the fridge, and was sitting up near. More

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