But the real trick was not to expect it to beperfect. You had to accept that some patching, pruning, and stretchingwere going to be necessary. Cutting...away the extra dough from along thetop with a sharp paring knife, Marcia set about doing just that. Itwould all bake into what looked like a flawless whole, heal itself inthe oven as it baked. But for now, before the filling was poured in, itlooked somewhat Frankensteinian, like a patched and plastered wallhastily covered in whitewash.Before the. “Yes… you fucker… pull my hair… make me scream!” Julia demanded.My imagination had been wrong as the two of them came into view. Julia was on her knees, her hands gripping the headboard as my son slammed into her from behind, one hand on her hips and the other twisted in her hair as he pulled back her head. I couldn’t believe I was standing there watching my son fuck his girlfriend doggy-style. I couldn’t stop my eyes going to Julia’s vibrating ass cheeks and staring at my son’s shiny wet cock. More

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