He twisted and jerked his cock around inside me as he rodded up into me, yanking his cock back and then jamming it upward violently.His cock reamed out my asshole as my body jerked and bounced against the pillar. His fingers were like steel as they dug into my ivory thighs. My tits kept smashing and mashing against the unyielding wood of the pillar. And all I could do was moan and whimper and grunt, hanging there by my wrists, my ass out against Joe, my legs wide.Then his sperm pumped up into me, what seemed like gallons of it. He slowed his hard pumping and let his cock slip out of my anus, then dropped my thighs, leaving me half hanging there as he went back to the ball game.Chicago was up by eight now and the rest of the guys were also getting bored. Then someone found a video camera and they decided to make their own show. Pete apparently had been interviewed on tv once, well, on cable anyway, for some stupid bodybuilder show, and he became the director.They sat me down on a. But today wasn't Saturday. It was Thursday and instead of colorful bouquet, the old man carried what appeared to be more than a dozen beautiful red roses.The vision brought smiles to many of the women who noticed him and some had wet eyes of admiration for the devotion the man showed. Today was Valentine's Day and he was going to bring his wife, Evelyn, red roses.A few minutes later, the old man stood proudly and offered the flowers to his wife. As he stood there in front of her, he visualized her the way she looked that Valentine's Day church dance where they met over sixty years ago. His mind's eye saw the beauty that had made him tongue tied to the point he almost didn't ask her for a dance.They danced most of the evening together and made arrangements for him to visit her at her home the next evening after supper. Some would say they had a whirl wind romance as just a year later to the day, Valentine's Day 1952, they were married.It was 1951 when Carl had just returned from Korea.
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