Chapter 12
Charlie Wilson, the tall, lanky n***o with the goatee, was most considerate, Doris learned, somewhat to her surprise, as he temporarily drew away from her to go over to the dresser and fetch a jar of cold-cream, to grease up his long, stiff c**k with, so he wouldn't hurt her when he drilled her in her tight little reddish-brown ass-hole.
However, Terry Whitman's cousin, Marty, wasn't quite so considerate -- nor did he have to be -- since he was going in from the front.
Since Doris already had all of the necessary juices of pre-secretion worked up inside of her, from the pot she had taken and in fervent anticipation of all the thrills that were to come and lay in store for her with this three-way-sandwich-job, by her pulling the flaps of flesh, that were the outer-labia-lips,
