"Don't tell me," she raised a finger, "Bob Jackson and Marjorie Andrews."David blinked but said nothing."Bob Jackson," Mrs Stone continued, almost spitting the name. "He just can't stand it that he wants to get his hands on me. He hates himself because that weird religious cult he's into sees me as a floozy. He blames me for flaunting my boobs, Mr Glanfield, for tempting him into lustful desires. Oh, he looks at me all right, has a good old stare and gets all hot and bothered and then hates me because I've enticed him."David gulped in the face of Mrs Stone's forthright assertions."And Marjorie Andrews," the woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Well, Mr Glanfield, she's just plain, old-fashioned jealous."Having said her piece Mrs Stone waved a hand in a "whatever" gesture, eyeing David as though expecting a denial.Truth be told, she was spot on. Strange Bob Jackson and sour-faced Marjorie Andrews had come to him as a unit, both of them simmering with supressed outrage.The silence. She paused. “Yeah, well. Listen, I’ve gotta go soon, but here’s the deal.” She walked over to her coat and took something out of the pocket. “After I get lubed up, you’ve got five minutes, okay?” Shayla oozed some lube onto her palm and smiled at me as she started working it into her little butthole. “You’re a good boy, Ben. And good boys get to fuck me in the ass.” Well, I almost came right there when she said that. Shayla tossed the little bottle aside and hopped back onto the bed. She slathered the last of the lube on my cock. “Whoa, be careful girl.” I said. She laughed and got on all fours. She tossed her hair back and smiled over her shoulder. “Remember, in five minutes I’m putting on my coat and walking out of here.” Now it was my turn to laugh. “No problem.” I turned my attention to Shayla’s ass. Her wonderful, glorious, magnificent ass. And the cute puckered hole right in the center. I put my hard cock against her butt, and after the head popped.
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