Highs. Lows. Bass. Treble. Rhythms harder than a hammer. Sharper than a knife. Like the knives cutting into her soul. Chemical Heaven. Kirsten pushed ...erself against Paul again, his own top thrown aside, pressing her hot hard breasts against his hot hard smooth chest, his pierced nipple occasionally slapping against her hot hard nipple. They shimmied and swirled and pirouetted and glided. Flesh against flesh. And Kirsten's hand on his hard cock under his shorts. So long. So thick. And such a. I pull out of the golf course and we start our drive home.“So you were swinging a pretty mean golf stick there at the end” I tell her“Yeah, but there is another stick I usually work better with” she says very sly “Really and what stick would that be” I ask her“I could show you, that way I can pay you back for showing me how to swing a golf stick” she tells me“That sounds like a fair deal” I respondShe leans across the middle and her head drops down below the dash board of the truck. The next. More

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