And, most importantly, you have to be willing to abide by all of the rules of the Card Club. The first rule of Card Club is: NOBODY talks about Card Club. The Friday Night Card Club meets at the old club house located at what is now the back of the golf course. Before the interstate came through and cut off Country Club masturbation Road, that was the main entrance to the Westhill. Now there isn’t even a frontage road on that side of the property and all traffic comes in from the county highway on the north side. The highway department would have torn the clubhouse down, but it was far enough away from the road and close enough to the river that it ended anal up almost under the approaches to the new bridge but out of the way– and even out of sight– of the highway. That section of the river is no good for fishing, so nobody goes back there anymore. The oldest portion of the old building has been torn down, but the newer hall, which had been added to the old building, still remains and is sometimes rented out for special occasions... except on Friday nights. The second rule of Card Club is: NOTHING is more important than Card Club. Some of the women in the Card Club are very young– in their early twenties; some are older– thirty-nine and holding; but all of them are rich... very rich... old money rich. And gay their Friday night sessions are more than doggystyle cards. This is the regular meeting of “The Westhill Good Ol’ Girls Club.” Plans are made and deals are completed. Careers are made or destroyed. This innocuous little club is the center of power for Westhill... and for the state... and beyond. So, the meeting of the Westhill Friday Night Card Club is sacrosanct. It takes a very good excuse to miss a Card Club night. The third rule of Card Club is: ALL debts are settled before the night is over. When you are rich... very rich... old money rich... money is literally no object. Multimillion dollar deals are sealed amateur with a handshake. What then is a few hundred or even a few thousand that might be won or lost on a game of cards? Over time, other things more precious than money– like pain or dignity– came to take the place of cash in the game. Two wheels are spun each Friday night. One at the beginning of the night and one at the end– well, at the end of the card game itself. The first wheel determines the game. The second determines the forfeit. Like life itself, it only matters if you win or lose. Coming in second gains you nothing and almost losing means only that you didn’t win. The forfeit is from the loser to the winner– or at least controlled by the winner– and is witnessed by the entire club. It moved around inside there and Lydia’s pussy pulsates in response, the small had giving her intense pleasures. I opened my eyes, feeling like I had closed them just a second ago. Perhaps you rather go back and live in your cage." My clit burst with sparks as Anna's round tits came into sight. After about ten minutes the man pulled out her defiled snatch. Ryan nodded, though he did not disagree with Eric. “You can lick Aurora clean while I fuck your cunt, whore,” I growled at Paris. As expected, it slowly started opening again, but by the time it was open enough for the men to see in, and they were looking, I was sat on the end of the bed with one foot up on the bed and me giving myself a pedicure. “But I’ve never had a baby before!” Chloe squealed fearfully. She almost flew at me, our breasts smashed together, our lips met again, then I was grinding my pussy into hers, as I grabbed her amateur ass to pull her tight into me. They were slightly painful which presumed was the point of them. The guys even offered him a slice before he left. 2008: The New "Wife" It’s because you think she’s right. “No”, I answered honestly. A minute later, she actually started licking up and down my shaft, and then she put the head of my dick between her lips and continued swirling her tongue around and over it. But he didn't answer. “Wow,” Candice said, her hand stroking her dick, sliding up and down that futa-monster. It didn't take long until I could see that doggystyle Mary was drifting off but trying to keep watching. She kissed Erin harder, savoring the taste of the girl. “I’d say the same for you hotshot, but you’re already perfect.” Nicole softly told me, wrapping me in an masturbation embrace. There was the sound of annoyed conversation just out the window. My partner is a "fem," while I was more of a tomboy. My brain went into overdrive, "You . . . Jacob can't either, and he's stopped trying to keep quiet as he grunts and moans and yells like a fucking grizzly bear. She giggled. She asked. Because I had to spend anal two hours getting these printed and staring at your bodies for gay that long has me really, really wanting to fuck."