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The next thing he could remember was his buddies stuffing the girl's panties with cash before she doffed them. Then a naked woman in his lap, grinding into his erection. Hands unbuttoning his shirt, opening his belt. Big, solid breasts with pointy nipples poking into his bare chest. The sound of a zipper. Someone fumbling at his crotch. Stroking his turgid cock. Hoots from his pals. The feel of a wet pussy slithering across the tip of his dick.And then his hand pushing her away. Her misinterpreting his gesture, getting to her knees, pressing her lips to his cock. Swallowing him, going down, cheeks hollowed. He surrendered to the feeling, closing his eyes, imagining it was his wedding night at last.But when he opened them, it wasn't Paula. Steve pushed the stripper away again, tried to get up. With his pants around his ankles, he stumbled drunkenly, crashed backwards, landing on the bad shoulder he told people was a football injury.Dimly he remembered telling everyone about the vow.. Abby recovered from the tonsilitis and returned to school. My own life was consumed with work and running the daily regimen of the house. The only new aspect of my life was how often I now needed to stroke my cock. The sight of Abby each morning in her short school uniform with the knee length socks would make me swell, and I had to hide the bulge in my pants beneath the kitchen table until she ran outside to meet the school bus. Within seconds I'd have my pants around my knees and my cock in my hands, stroking myself as I thought of eating her cunt out on the kitchen table. Or my mind would wander while I was at work and I would find myself in the men's room wanking over the thought of how tight her cunt would be around my cock. I'd get hard if she climbed onto my lap at night while we watched TV, or I'd get hard at just the sight of her bedtime attire, hell it didn't matter. Everything to do with Abby was making me hard and I hadn't stroked my cock this much since I'd been 15.I.
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