"Okay." You should take your shirt and pants off, to keep them from getting dirty," Inga suggested.Did I want my blossoming erection tenting my jockey... to be exposed? Not when Little Blabbermouth tells her mother everything that goes on in my house. "No thanks."For the highest shelf, someone would have to climb our ladder to fetch the top items, large boxes and bags. "Do you want me to get them?" I asked."Nope, I'm fine."That was certainly true. Inga climbed high on the ladder, to wrestle a bag. You like to have your prostate massaged, don’t you?” she romped. “Yes. Please don’t stop.” The warm soapy solution was rushing into my guts and stimulating my insides. The pressure was increasing on my prostate was increasing and my dick was screaming for relief. “Hold on to your load my dear,” she demanded and stopped rubbing my cock, “we don’t want you to squirt around.” Finally the 4 quart soapy load was in me, slushing around. “Hold on to it,” she whispered in my ear while slowly. More

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