‘Carlos, for one, I’m not a ‘brain doctor,” Tim replied, taking his hands off the yoke long enough to make double quotations with his fingers ...efore quickly replacing his hands. ‘They’re called neurosurgeons, and they make a hell of a lot more money than I do. I’m a sports psychologist, and I can only work off of what you tell me. So, why do you think you keep fumbling the ball?’ Carlos squirmed in the seat – and since it was covered in leather and probably more comfortable than it should have. She rubbed it slowly and softly with her little hand while her mouth started to kiss my chest in a little line south. As her mouth was making its first contact with my cock in years she stopped and stood up. She removed her towel completely and did a little fully nude turn, playing to the camera and jiggling her boobs at it. She turned back to make and got on her knees in front of me. “I have a confession” she said. “Two actually” I was about to ask what it was when she took my cock in her. More

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