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Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. The Friday Night Card Club has been a staple of life at the Westhill Country Club for over seventy years. The criteria for membership are simple. You have to be a member of the country club. You have to be invited to join. You have to be a woman. 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 blowjob Card Club meets stockings 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 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 Toys enough to the river that it ended up almost under the approaches to the new bridge but Brunette 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 their Friday night sessions are more than 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. anal “I appreciate the sentiment. In the old center of a godforsaken, semi-large European city, Brunette with a hundred-percenter sitting across the small table, but now with a who knows walking towards me. Imagine I would have answered A cab for the girl, and your panties on the floor when she asked me what I wanted. We can be restrained or unrestrained. I peeped through the eyehole to make sure it was her then opened it. My mother asked if Toys I would help with dishes as she got up. His cock shaft sunk into my twat with a wet slurp, battering against my virginal barricade. “Don’t get me started on the Breytans!” Bianca said dramatically, but I knew I’d just opened the floodgates. I would give her what she craved. His rough guess would’ve been all of them but that was the only certainty of what he was doing. Later in anal the afternoon, my dad, Lee and Reggie competed in stockings archery. "Is it going to hurt when you put it inside me?" “How will you tell blowjob her I died?” We needed all the complex carbohydrates, fiber, and protein we could get.