Phone sex was not on my mind on the Fourth of July, but cock was! Cock is always on my mind. My daughter and I went to see the fireworks down by the Brooklyn bridge. It is always a huge crowd. I like to mingle with the working-class Joes. My daughter and I come from money. Silver spoons in our mouths. We went to the fireworks in a limo. We came home in a cab, however, because we stayed and partied with the working-class men of Brooklyn. We went to this dive bar that once was known for mob activity back in John Gotti’s days. This bar is where the docker men and warehouse guys hang out. None of those guys minded slumming with two rich bitches. We did shots, played pool and fucked. My daughter and I have partied in Brooklyn before. Many times. We just find a different bar every time to broaden our horizons. We have fucked plumbers, electricians, construction workers and now the dock workers. All union guys with thick Brooklyn accents and hard cocks. Hard cocks that their women neglect. My daughter and I don’t discriminate when it comes to cock. Those working-class Joes could handle their booze. By that I mean they had no drunk dick issues. My daughter and I have sore pussies as proof. We closed the bar down on our knees. Fucked every bloke in the place. A yellow cab took us home with cum filled cunts. One of the best Fourth of July in a long time.
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