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Coree Stewart turned the sapphire blue Cadillac crossover SUV into the parking lot of Loving Arms Community Church. His mom, Rochelle, was giving him as much practice as possible since he had gotten his learner’s permit. He enjoyed it and secretly hoped his sixteenth birthday in the upcoming March would net him a new car.
Rochelle joined this church shortly after beginning the adoption paperwork for Coree and Jeramiah. All three enjoyed being an active part of the non-denominational congregation. They were just a few minutes late for Sunday school. She stepped out of the vehicle wearing an Antonio Melani olive green, V-neck, tie-front dress with ruffle embellishments along the vertical hem and a pair of Steven by Steve Madden rhinestone slip-on flat sandals.
There were two things her adopted sons had in common – eating voraciously and a love of style. Her elder son, Coree, wore a blue checked-pattern sports coat, light wash denim jeans, white button-down shirt, and shiny black chukka boots. The younger one, Jeramiah, or Jere, had on a light grey sateen dress shirt, a black cherry colored vest, a pale pink paisley bow tie & pocket square, dark jeans, and brown cap-toe Oxford shoes.
The family entered the vestibule and were greeted by volunteers. They parted ways to their respective classrooms. Rochelle attended the mixed adult parents’ class. Coree went to the boys’ teen group while Jere studied with the middle school boys and girls.
Rochelle took up a seat next to Chara Owens, the mother of Jere’s best friend, Desmond. She whispered hello and Chara did the same. Rochelle noticed that her husband, Herron, was not next to her this morning when she spotted the him across the room sitting between one of his fishing buddies and some buxom blonde newcomer. Rochelle rolled her eyes as she knew the high school football coach was an undercover philanderer.
The class leader went through the history and context of the lesson on ‘The Widow & the Unjust Judge’. The woman who was a recently retired special education teacher moderated a vibrant group discussion focusing on spiritual growth during times when participants prayed for God to change the circumstance, but instead changed them. They also broached the subject of justice in today’s society and imparting patience and inclusion to their c***dren.
The silver-haired, bronze woman with the short Afro closed by reminding her students, “Prayer is a plea to the highest court of appeals.”
Another poignant class.
“How are you, girl,” Rochelle inquired of Chara.
“Oh, I’m pretty good. How about you,” the mother of three asked.
“Good. How are the k**s?”
“They’re fine. I know you saw Dez yesterday. Thanks for letting him come over.”
“No worries. He’s a joy to have around. I wish my boys were as clean and mannered.”
Chara giggled, “Yeah he keeps us on our toes at home.”
“What about your older two?”
“Well,” began Chara. “Shelby is loving her study abroad program in Tanzania. She’ll be back in a week. Then, we gotta get cracking on all this stuff for her senior year. And H.K. is fine. He got invited to work the summer at the place where he did his co-op last fall. So, he’s making some change. I’m not sure who’s happier – him or me.”
“I understand,” Ro chuckled.
“What’s going on with your boys?”
“They’re doing fine. They had a blast at football camp and now we’re winding down in the last couple of weeks before school. We’re driving up to Mammoth Cave this afternoon for a couple days.”
“I love how you do all these three and four day mini-cations.”
“Thanks,” blushed the doctor.
Coach Owens joined his wife and placed his arm around her waist. “Hi, Rochelle,” he said.
“Hey! I was just about to head into the sanctuary. See you later,” she informed the couple.
The membership at Loving Arms was approximately half Black, thirty-percent white, fifteen-percent each Hispanic and Asian. There was a cross-section of socio-economic groups as well. The devotion was spirited with Christian and Gospel music. Min. Marcus Wells delivered a powerful sermon extolling courage and grace coming from Ephesians chapter one verses three through f******n. Rochelle followed along intently. Her sons were on the other side sitting with friends.
After service and brief socialization. They drove to a discount retail store. Rochelle sent Jere to purchase a pack of premium paper napkins some four sports drinks. With the transaction complete, Coree drove home.
“Alright, guys! Get changed and we’ll leave in 15 minutes. Go ahead and put your bags in the car.”
“Okay, ma” Coree signaled.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jere acknowledged.
“Oh Jere, please get the cooler and snack basket.”
Rochelle hung up the dress and selected a red lace-detailed long-sleeve knit top, denim capris with crochet detail on the legs, and red flip flops. She lugged her bag through the house and put in the back cargo area. She checked on the boys who were just wrapping up their packing. The vehicle loaded, Rochelle indicated to Coree that he would drive the first leg.
“So guys,” Rochelle started. “Back in the day during Jim Crow segregation, Black people would have limited options for hotels, places to eat, and even to fill up their gas tanks. So, when they took a road trip, they generally packed food to eat for lunch and maybe supper at rest areas or on the side of the road. I would like for each of to watch ‘The Watsons Go to Birmingham’ while we’re at the cottage. Then I want you to do a little research on the green and write a one-page essay on what it meant for Blacks to take road trips during segregation. Will that work?”
“That’ll be fun,” Jeramiah smiled.
“Yeah! I can do it,” Coree confirmed. “When do you want the essays, ma?”
“You can send them to me on the Tuesday morning when we check out.”
They fueled up near the Interstate and then took off down the highway. Each of them munched on some of the snacks. Coree annihilated an entire can of potato crisps and Jere was on chucking down another clementine.
After a couple of hours, Rochelle pointed out a rest area eight miles ahead. They stopped there to eat lunch. The boys took out the Igloo thermoelectric cooler and basket. She spread out a blanket on the ground and pulled out the reusable plastic plates. They nosed on the wraps Rochelle made earlier that morning. The boys also ate some of the eggs and trail mix. Rochelle had water. The brothers drank the electrolyte-filled beverages.
As they ate and talked, a medium-height, athletically-built, light-skinned man approached them. “Hello,” he called out from a distance. The family acknowledged him so he walked closer. “Hi there, I’m Rodney. How are y’all?”
“We’re fine,” Rochelle returned.
“I see y’all got a nice li’l picnic going on.”
“We’re traveling like Black people did during segregation,” Jere updated him.
“That’s interesting.”
“Care for a turkey, bacon, avocado wrap,” inquired Rochelle.
“Wow! I think I’ll take you up on that.” He sat down. Coree rolled his eyes. “I’m Nails. Where ya headed?”
“Mammoth Cave,” she said. “I’m Rochelle. This is Coree and this is Jeramiah.”
“Never been there. I bet it’s nice!”
“It’s supposed to be. We’ll see soon,” she giggled. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, me…I gotta drop off a load down in Mobile, Alabama.”
“You’re a truck driver?”
“For the past nineteen years. Spent six in the military and started driving not long after I got out.”
“Oh, that’s neat.”
“Where’s your husband?”
Before she could answer, Coree interjected. “She’s a single mom.” Emphasis was placed on the final word of the statement.
“Kudos to you, sister!”
“Thanks,” Rochelle blushed.
“Where’s your wife,” Coree quizzed snidely.
“Be nice, son,” she admonished him.
Nails assuaged the situation, “It’s alright! I can understand why he’s protective of his beautiful mother. My wife is at home in Ohio.”
“I’m guessing you have k**s too,” Coree shot at the man.
“Three of ‘em. Two girls and a boy.”
“You must be on the road a lot,” Rochelle wiggled into the conversation.
“Yes ma’am a good bit. I’m an owner-operator so I try to two weeks on the road, then 3 days home. After that I’ll do three weeks driving and spend five or six days at home.”
“Very interesting. I have a swing schedule myself.”
“Nice! What do you do.”
“I work in healthcare.”
“So you’re a nurse,” grinned Nails.
“She’s an E.R. doctor,” snarled Coree.
Rochelle glared at her son. “Yes I am. So my hours and number of days off are whacky. I usually work thirteen or f******n shifts a month interspersed with time off of one, two, or three days. Sometimes I get seven in a row.”
“That’s kinda neat! See a lotta gory stuff.”
“We live in Persopolis so yeah. Guys will you go ahead and take the trash to the bins?”
Nails said, “No need! I’ll take the trash when I leave.”
Rochelle suggested to her sons that they go ahead and use the restroom. They disappeared.
Nails smiled, “Great k**s.”
“Thanks they’re good boys,” she beamed.
“Where’s their father?”
“Oh, you see they were in foster care. I adopted them two years ago.”
“That’s amazing. Plus, they get to live with a beautiful woman.”
“I see you’re an incorrigible flirt. What would your wife say.”
“Not much. She’s a pretty meek churchgoer. We been married twenty-three years. We have an understanding. She manages home and finances. I make the money.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, I love her. But we’re two different people.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah, you sound interesting too. Can I get your number? I’d like to get to know you and be friends.”
Rochelle quoted him the number to her Straight Talk phone. This number was reserved for suitors, romantic interests and fuck buddies. She used a ‘burner’ phone since her residency.
Nails eagerly typed in the digits. “I’ll give you a call later. I need to hit the road.”
“Looking forward to it,” Rochelle gleamed.
“Maybe I can treat you to dinner next time I come through Persopolis.”
“If I’m free, you certainly can.”
The boys returned. Nails helped them pack up and reload the car.
Rochelle drove the second leg of the trip.
They arrived at The Lodge at Mammoth Cave. Rochelle got out of the vehicle and headed straight to the lobby restroom. She came back to the lobby and checked-in. They made it to their cottage which had two queen beds, WiFi, air conditioning, a mini fridge, and couch. “I ordered that movie on Prime. So y’all can watch it whenever. “ It was 7:30. “Let’s be ready to walk over to the restaurant at 8:00.
They arrived at Old Kentucky Home Grill and were seated by a cheery hostess. A waiter brought them water and took their drink orders. Coree asked for lemonade. Jere requested Sprite and said, “Just one, ma.” Rochelle nodded and then told the server she would like a glass of Chardonnay. She indicated they’d like the fried green tomatoes for an appetizer.
When their drinks arrived, they were ready to make the meal selections.
“Have y’all decided what’s for dinner,” the waiter asked.
“Yes, We’re ready. I’ll have the grilled rainbow trout. Could I substitute the sweet potatoes for yukon gold?”
“No problem!”
“I made them for dinner last night so I’m gonna splurge tonight.”
He laughed, “I hear ya. What’ll it be for you?”
Coree answered, “ I want the country ham steak.”
“And everything that comes with it?”
“Yeah,” Coree grunted fumbling with his iPhone
“Perfect! And for you, sir?”
“The trio of barbecue,” Jere decided.
“Excellent choice! The sides that come with it okay?”
“Yes, sir!”
The food arrived and smelled delicious. In addition to the fish, Rochelle’s plate contained caramelized Brussels sprouts, the mashed potatoes and bacon corn relish. Coree’s meal included jalapeno cheddar grits, succotash, and red eye gravy. Jeramiah had the monster. Three meats – pulled pork, chicken, and brisket. It was accompanied with corn-on-the-cob, coleslaw, baked beans, and hot pepper sauce.
Near the end, Rochelle as the server for an order of the Bourbon-cured chicken wings as she knew the boys would be hungry before bed.
They returned to the cottage. Rochelle sat in the chair so she could catch up on some reading. Coree and Jere began the movie using the older one’s iPad.
Around 10:30, Rochelle told her sons good night.
The next day was a blast. They took the two-hour long, two mile Historic Tour. Afterwards they freshened up and headed out to the small town of Brownsville. They picked a local Mexican spot. They had a dip sampler containing guacamole, chile con queso, and queso diablo along with an order of super nachos with ground beef. Rochelle had a margarita since Coree was driving.
The mom went with a Reynosa salad. A blend of garden salad mix, shredded chicken, assorted cheeses, chile con queso, Charro beans, tomatoes, and guac. She ate half and pack the rest for later.
Coree chose a platter known as ‘The Morelia”. It came with four enchiladas – one each of sour cream chicken, spinach, avocado, and ranchera chicken. There was also a cheese chile relleno, crispy chicken taco and some guac.
Jeramiah picked chicken medallions that were stuffed with a blend of chorizo, Poblano peppers, and cheese. They were friend lightly and served with queso, rice and refried beans.
They went back to the cottage to relax after stopping by a local grocery store to stock up on provisions for the evening and the drive back home the next day. Rochelle read some more. Jeramiah started working on his essay/ Coree was playing a game on his phone.
Rochelle’s primary phone rang. It was her mother. “Hi, mama!”
“Hey, baby! How you doin’,” the matriarch inquired.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m good. Just making some collard greens for dinner later on. How’s the trip?”
“Great we went on walking tour of the cave. It was tiring. So we ate a late lunch and came back to the room to take it easy.”
“Well, I understand that. Have you talked to anyone lately.”
“Randall called me Saturday. We spoke for a while. Melissa,” she referred to her sister, “and I have been texting off and on this past weekend.”
“Oh okay. She’s been busy with Julian’s father being sick and all.”
“Yeah. I know. He’s not doing to good.”
“That poor man. And he only has the one c***d and bless him, it’s a boy.”
“What does that mean, mama,” chuckled Rochelle.
“It’s just that daughters usually are the ones that take care of aging parents. So a lot is falling on her.”
“Well, then he’s lucky. She’ll make sure every ‘I’ is dotted and ‘T’ crossed.
“Randall called me Saturday too, but we didn’t talk about much. What’s going on with him?”
“He seems to be doing better and doing what he needs to do. I don’t wanna go into too much detail, but he said Leah told him she wants try and work through this.”
“Praise God! I just wish there was something I could do. I mean I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Mom, Randall’s issues are not due to you. Just like mine aren’t, nor Buck’s nor Melissa.’s Have you considered going to therapy or Al-Anon?”
“I guess I should. Well, I’ll let you go so I can finish these greens. Tell the boys hello.”
Rochelle called out, “Bibi says hi.”
“Hi Bibi,” the brothers rang out in unison.
“Love you, mama!”
“Love you too, baby!”
Rochelle settled back into the chair and picked up her novel. She had less than twenty pages to go. She planned to knock them out and take a quick nap before dinner. Her other phone vibrated with a number she did not recognize. She answered anyway. “Hello.”
“Rochelle,” the rich, deep voice asked.
“Speaking.”
“Hi there! It’s Nails. The truck driver you met at the rest stop yesterday.”
“Oh, hey! How are you,” she checked walking onto the covered patio.
“Oh, I can’t complain. Wouldn’t do any good if did,” he laughed. “How about you, sexy lady?”
“I’m well. Thanks!”
“I was just calling to see how the cave was,” he admitted.
“It was fun,” she shared. “We went on walking tour of it this morning. Now we’re resting up till dinner.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Yeah. What are you doing?”
“I’m just sitting at this loading dock waiting on a trailer to pull. Can I ask what you’re wearing.”
“Uh…Wow. I have on a, uh, a white flowy pullover top and turquoise Bermuda shorts.”
“Got them legs out I see.”
“Something like that.”
“Don’t be up there gettin’ engaged before I have a chance to take you out,” pleaded Nails.
“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetie,” Rochelle offered.
“I’m for real. You got me curious to get to know you.”
“Why is that?”
“Single, attractive, smart, woman – a doctor at that – decides to adopt two teenage boys. That right there is interesting enough to start.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“So, who are you dating?”
“There’s a gentleman I see semi-regularly.”
“Why the hell hasn’t he proposed?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Aha, he’s married.”
“I didn’t say…:”
“You ain’t have to say it. The players may change, but the game remains the same.”
“True that! How’s your family?”
“k**s are good. Needing more money. Always more money. My son has braces. My middle daughter is raising the three grand she needs for cheerleading. And the oldest girl is in her last year of college.”
“Oh yeah! k**s are costly. Sounds like your plate is already full. I’m not sure there’s time to take me out.”
“Au contraire, my dear. There’s always room for dessert.”
“Good one,” she snickered.
“May I ask what your daughter is studying,” pried the medicine woman.
“Her name’s Kristen. Kristen Margaret Nails. Middle name came from my grandmother. She’s at Old Dominion majoring in international business.”
“How interesting.”
“Yeah, she’s smart. She’s doing an internship for a couple more weeks in Chile working for a shipping company.”
“Wow! Look at her!”
“I know. Says she chose that place because it’s connected to what I do.”
“Ah, transportation of goods. Sounds like she adores her father.”
“I like to think so. The other two aren’t quite there yet. Teenagers.”
Rochelle continued the conversation. “Where do you go when you get the trailer.”
“Over to Albuquerque,” Nails professed.
“Long drive.”
“Yeah, miss lady! I do the long haul and I can go a long time.”
“Oh stop it,” she gushed.
“I’m just sayin’. What made you wanna adopt?”
“I always wanted to get married and have k**s. I was focused on my education and career almost singularly and marriage didn’t come about. I felt that there were plenty of k**s needing homes and that I could provide a safe, loving one. So I did it.”
“Good for you!”
“And as I was going through the process I became interested in biological sibling sets so the k**s wouldn’t have to be split up. My boys have the same birth parents.”
“I give it to you. If I hadn’t made none, can’t say I’d take on anybody else’s.”
“It’s not for everyone. But, I’m so happy. They make me happy and sometimes angry. It’s worth it.”
“You’re right. I’m gonna step out here and see what’s up with this load. I’ll call you tonight or maybe wait till tomorrow.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Rochelle flipped open the book. She read the final chapter quickly and was genuinely surprised by the ending. She went over to bed and laid down. Jeramiah was still typing his essay. Coree was looking streaming video. She drifted to sleep.
At 6:00, they went to dinner. Rochelle still had a potion of her lunch left so she just had a BLT wedge salad. Both boys picked the fried catfish that came fries and coleslaw. They ate and went back to the cottage. Jere turned on the TV. Rochelle sat on the couch next to him. Coree started his research for the paper he owed his mom while watching something on his phone.
Late the next morning, they loaded up the SUV and made the trek back to Persopolis. As they did on the way there, they ate a picnic lunch at rest area. They arrived at home a little before 5:30. Rochelle left her sons to unload and put away the items from the trip.
“I’m not real hungry,” she told them. “What do y’all want for dinner?”
“I don’t care,” Jere commented.
“Anything,” Coree added.
“We have some Angus beef hamburger patties. How about burgers?”
“Yeah! Sounds good, ma! Can I get two with cheese,” the elder one asked.
“I want two too,” Jeramiah shared.
“Okay then, I’ll put them in the oven and you two can get out whatever fixings you want. Y’all can put some hashbrowns in the toaster or eat chips for a side.”
“I’ll fix the hashbrowns, Jere,” Coree volunteered.
“They’ll be ready in 30 minutes. Set your alarms,” she instructed them.
Rochelle got online to search for an upcoming continuing medical education course. She needed 40 credit hours every two years to keep her license valid. Her count right now was 34 and she still had five months to go. She found an online course for addiction and one for assessment & medications for pain. Both were on special so she signed up and paid the hundred bucks using her debit card.
Right as she clicked the button, her phone rang. The screen indicated that it was her oldest brother, Buck. After the system alerted her that caller was from a correctional facility, she pressed the button to accept. “Hey there,” she mused when they were connected.
“Hey, guhl,” the prisoner howled. “How you doin’ today?”
“Pretty good, Buck. And you?”
“I’m aiight…Doin’ aiight, Ro.”
“That’s good. Did you like the puzzles I sent you?”
“Hell yeah! Hell yeah! You talked to mama?”
“Yesterday. What’s up?”
“Been tryna call her, but she not pickin’ up.”
“Oh, I think she’s working at the group home today. You know that keeps her busy. Do you need something?”
“Naw. Just checkin’ in on folks.”
“Great! The boys and I will come see you one day next month.”
“You know I appreciate that. You always cared for me.”
“Of course I do. You’re my big, strong brother!”
“Damn, right! Hey, you ain’t talked Trina or Taylor, have you,” he prodded referring to his baby mama and daughter, respectively.
“I talked to Taylor two weeks ago. It’s been a while since I spoke to Trina. I’m sure she’ll call when it gets closer to school.”
“Ah okay. Okay. Well, I’ma go on and let you go.”
“Alright. I’ll put that on your books tomorrow morning.”
“You da best. Thank you so much! You ain’t gon’ want for nothin’ when I get out.”
“Bye bye.”
Rochelle put forty-five dollars on Buck’s books every two weeks. She knew he used the money to supplement the diet of veritable slop they passed off as food in the cafeteria. Her sibling was sentenced to six years in federal prison for a d**g trafficking conviction. It had broken her mother’s heart. Rochelle accepted the fact and tried to ease the pain.
Rochelle had forgiven her brother many years prior after going to therapy. Buck and a few of his friends routinely used the effeminate, slight Ricky for sexual pleasures. It started at age eleven. Buck, who had a different father, was sixteen. The m*****ation occurred until Ricky went off to college. Rochelle had once blamed herself for being so girly around suchtestosterone-filled young men. She even found space to blame her mother for being away from home so much. Time and counseling had healed the wounds. She had never disclosed to her mother specifically what happened. But, she always suspected that’s why her mom banned Buck and his friends from being near her house.
Rochelle confronted Buck about the sexual misconduct over the phone eight years ago. At first, he tried to deny it. Eventually, he admitted that he was at fault. He threw in some excuses about not having an active father and seeking attention cause their mom worked two, sometimes three, jobs to support them. That conversation was emotional – with both ending the call in tears. A week later, a card arrived in her mailbox. It was from Buck. The handwritten message read, ‘I’m truly sorry for how I hurt you. It kills me that I caused you so much pain. Please forgive me. I do love, sis.’ She called him that evening to let him know she’d already forgiven him. He was appreciative and their relationship began to heal. Surprisingly, there was some unacknowledged sexual tension that existed between them.
Rochelle decided she no longer wanted to think about the topic and that she was hungry. She went to the kitchen where he boys were eating their burgers talking about pro football. She grabbed a container of hummus, baby carrots, broccoli, a stick of extra sharp Vermont white cheddar cheese, and a handful of g****s. She pulled took a bag of pita chips from the pantry. Rochelle assembled her plate and asked the boys if they’d sent their essays. They confirmed and she promised to read them tomorrow and give feedback. She ran a bubble bath then sat in the large garden tub noshing on her snack plate.
The night wound down. Rochelle checked on the k**s. Both were in the rooms occupied with their phones. She wished them a good night and explained that she was going grocery shopping at the membership-only wholesale club. She encouraged them to text her any special requests they had outside of the normal food she purchased.
Back in her bedroom, she watched some more of the period drama she started on Saturday.
Lynton texted asking if she had a few minutes. He was working a very rare overnight shift to fill-in for one of his employees that had a death in the family. He indicated that he had time for quickie. She told him she’d be ready.
Lynton arrived a half-hour later. As usual, he was carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers from a nearby grocery store. Rochelle was in her plush bathrobe when she opened the door. They went to the master suite where she revealed the sheer, black lace babydoll that had on underneath.
Lynton pulled her to with with his bulky arms. His massive hands fondled her lower back. “I missed you so much, baby,” he confessed. “I think about you all the time.”
Rochelle knew time was of the essence. She turned up the volume on the TV then got her knees to service her lover. She suckled his hefty, eight-and-a-half-inch dick. It made him moan. After a few moments, he motioned for her to lie on her back.
Lynton climbed on top of the slender, yet voluptuous tranny. His hulky, solid frame dwarfed her soft, precious body. He angled his love tool towards her pussy. The heat emanating from down there had him almost ready to cum right then. He spat in his fist and rubbed on the head of his cock. He held her legs apart as pushed inside.
Rochelle moaned with pleasured discomfort as she felt the full width of Lynton’s manhood enter. She willed herself to relax. She felt every single inch as it pushed deeper in her rectum. She prompted her man to remove his shirt. She fondled her fake boobs while he began to work into a steady stroke rhythm.
Lynton was now giving her good, long, full repetitions of his Black snake. “Oh, baby! This pussy is so good!”
“You like this tranny pussy, huh daddy,” Rochelle teased him.
“You know I do! Gimme that tranny pussy, bitch!”
“Yes, daddy! Fuck me!”
Lynton thrust his loins into her supple, wanting, silken asspussy. He slammed as hard as he could. His pulse raced. He instructed Rochelle to get on her stomach. When he mounted her, his dick went balls deep. He humped and plowed her hole ferociously. The furor and strength with which he pounded her, made her whimper sweet little arousing sounds.
“Ooh..Ooh…h…Oh yeah…Yes daddy…Ooh…Fuck me…Take my…unh…faggot pussy,” she whined.
“Yeah, baby! I love this good faggit pussy. So juicy and wet. Damn!”
“I love that dick!”
“You like how Daddy fucks your li’l sissy boi ass?”
“Yes, daddy! I love the way you fuck me.”
“I wish I’d been your next door neighbor when you was twelve or thirteen. I’d have been fucking you every day behind my wife’s back!”
“Yes. sir. Fuck my tweleve year-old boipussy. Gimme that big grown man dick!”
“Ahhhhh baby! Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkk!”
Lynton planted his seed inside his pretty Black-porcelain China doll.
Lynton washed up and kissed her good night. He told her she could stop by his house during the day tomorrow since he was off and his wife would be at work.
Rochelle pulled the covers over head and drifted to sleep.
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