The Family Man

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“You'd sure like to get into one of those tight little cunts, wouldn't you, Dan? Is that why you've taken up jogging all of a sudden?”

Dan Cabot merely grunted in reply. He was lying on his belly in his neatly trimmed front yard, wearing a loose sweat shirt and even looser boxing trunks, his chin resting on his folded arms as he watched a group of young girls playing touch football in the park across the street. “Sure. And I know what you'd like to do to them, too.”

The woman sitting by his side had wriggled her hand under his trunks and into his crotch, and was gently toying with his heavy scrotum, seemingly oblivious to the odd stares she was getting from the traffic passing by. Suddenly, she jammed her long-nailed thumb through his anal sphincter and deep into his colon. “That's not funny, Dan. I'm sorry I ever told you about that. You make it sound so… so dirty.”

He flinched at the invasion of his rectum, then relaxed and let his cock get hard beneath him, enjoying the feel of her digit in his bung.

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