I shuffled through the stash to find the next episode of the previous season of Murder, She Wrote, then walked towards my VHS player, domination passing through Baxter silently eating his dinner and put the tape rough in. In my kitchen there was some stale bread, some crackers, a bit of jam and a few cans of coke, so I was set for the night. I grabbed the remote, undid my pants, slid them down and launched myself to the sofa wearing only my boxers and socks. My body glistened due to the accumulated sweat after work and the heat, but I didn’t mind. After grabbing a pillow to rest my head on, I laid belly down and hit Play on the remote. As expected, as soon as Baxter heard any sound coming from the TV, he went straight to the sofa blowjob to lay beside me. Unfortunately for him, I spread my body all over the sofa, including the spot he usually would curl up and take a nap while I watch my favorite series. He crawled up, tried to find a spot to sit comfortably but didn’t find any. “Sorry, bud, I guess it’s the floor for you today.” Baxter, perhaps, was spoiled by the nights spent with me gay watching TV. Ann would reclaim his spot when she was with me but I didn’t mind he slept on the sofa, or on the bed with me when she wasn’t around. He’s just great to cuddle. Surprisingly, Baxter decided to lay on top of my legs, in his usual spot. Baxter was fairly big, so his weight definitely did not go unnoticed. Considering the heat muscle that night and his fur, I starting sweating more than usual. It was okay, though. He was comfortable, I was comfortable, we were good, so I kept watching my episode while Baxter found a way to nest himself among my legs and use by butt as a pillow. It felt somewhat weird to feel his junk resting dormant against my calf, though it didn’t feel as big as Ann’s impression of it from earlier. Ow, and one correction: you cannot do what you want with these girls, the director is the boss ... I put the pouch the pouch on the low, wide glass table which was surrounded by comfortable, black leather couch set. We started eating domination like wolves, she ordered too much food, salad, steaks, pasta, some appetizers, deserts. But once I heard my father's voice say. “But I can’t talk with her, I can’t rely on her, I can’t play with her in the rough special way we do.” “Greed?” I hissed at her. Through it all I'd even managed to alienate my daughter, she muscle didn't understand at the time why I was angry gay and calling her Mommy a fucking nasty slut and since I felt ashamed that I'd upset her I didn't try hard enough and let the relationship fall to the wayside. No one—and I mean no one—would ever ACTUALLY wear that. She was getting tired of the bitch's games. Would you like to see your mom on her knees, hold her big tits up, blowjob mouth open, tongue out, waiting for you to shoot your big, hot, sticky cum load all over her?