Sunday morning was an odd one indeed.You see, my old, clap-ridden maid ( Jean was her name, but i called her Atkinson) had gone off to tend to my rose garden, and forgotten to lay out my tweed grousing trousers.....Vaginal dryness--a symptom of Menopause.So i wore my young daughter's small, white bloomers instead. Jean was her name but i called her Atkinson.Fine young stock.They fitted well, but were a tad tight across my well-fellated nether-regions.The underneath of the bedsheet twitched, as i espied my perky-breasted, coffee-nippled lover awaken. Jean was her name, but i called her Atkinson.Downy hole well lubricated.....jean........why.....jeaaan....I felt a ping on my bloomer elastic and a wet tongue upon my anus-rectum orifice....jean?..are you awake...?I snapped sharply at Atkinson, But not after she had reached around and frigged my peg....jean....jeaaaaan.....whyyyy...??White jizzum was rapidly building up in my pecker, but Atkinson was around the rear, so i could not ejaculate into her wiry brown hair.Comment too long. Clickhereto view the full text.