Pavlov's Dinner Bell
I caught a glimpse of the cooking show, with a southern woman demonstrating a recipe for apple cake.
Mmm, apple cake. I was introduced to this concoction a year ago, while staying at my special friend's house. In fact we were doing something quite unrelated to apple cake, initially. We'd spontaneously gotten comfortable in his basement living room, and I was having the best top-fuck of my life, bouncing off his giant cock and ready to come hard all over the bean bag chair.
Then an abrasive voice hollered from the top of the stairs: "CHRIS, CHRIS, CHRIS!" Uncertain if we'd locked the door, we frantically pulled out, and he jerked up his boxers to answer the roommate's friend. "You want some apple cake?" she asked. I had run to the bedroom, giggling. The guest boomed down the stairs, wondering what was going on, and after some speculation it was occurring to her what she'd interrupted.
She'd mention it the next few times we saw her.
Anyway, what I mean to say is, that apple cake was really good, and that cooking show gave me a boner.
Mmm, apple cake. I was introduced to this concoction a year ago, while staying at my special friend's house. In fact we were doing something quite unrelated to apple cake, initially. We'd spontaneously gotten comfortable in his basement living room, and I was having the best top-fuck of my life, bouncing off his giant cock and ready to come hard all over the bean bag chair.
Then an abrasive voice hollered from the top of the stairs: "CHRIS, CHRIS, CHRIS!" Uncertain if we'd locked the door, we frantically pulled out, and he jerked up his boxers to answer the roommate's friend. "You want some apple cake?" she asked. I had run to the bedroom, giggling. The guest boomed down the stairs, wondering what was going on, and after some speculation it was occurring to her what she'd interrupted.
She'd mention it the next few times we saw her.
Anyway, what I mean to say is, that apple cake was really good, and that cooking show gave me a boner.