The catch open, Polly's huge tits sprung free from her bra, standing proudly from her rib cage, nipples the size of Bull's thumbs peaking the soft mounds.The catch open, Polly's huge tits sprung free from her bra, standing proudly from her rib cage, nipples the size of Bull's thumbs peaking the soft mounds. "Hooray," George cried, "them's what I call tits!" Bull's fingers slowly moved to caress the softly moving mounds, this thumbs moving over the crinkled skin of her nipples, drawing the skin tighter and making each erect nipple swell and grow harder with each touch, while Polly's head moved in his lap slowly, pressing her ebony hair against his over heated groin. After a few seconds, Polly spun over on her tummy, her weight resting on her elbows as her hands darted to his belt buckle. "My turn now," Polly giggled impishly, "Now I get to see what's been poking me in the back of my head." Her fingers flew to his buckle, drawing the leather through the metal, opening the metal catch at the top of his slacks, fumbling with the zipper, drawing it down full length. Her hand dove into the opening, wriggling inside his shorts, grasping and pulling at his cock, pulling it free to stand in his lap. "My Gawd," Betty's awed voice exclaimed in her very British accent, "no wonder they call you Bull. You're hung like a big Spanish steer. Are you sure you don't have a little black blood in you, brother?" Lisa giggled at Betty's open mouthed stare. |