She pulled my cock out of Lydia’s pussy and quickly lubed me up. She then guided my throbbing member to Lydia’s well lubed and stretched asshole.�...�Oh my god, I’m not ready!” Lydia squealed as my cock slowly penetrated her tight little asshole.I tried to be gentle, but after a few moments, Carolyn has lost all patience.“Stop fucking around and fuck her ass!” she commanded.I snapped into action and begin pounding Lydia’s ass. Not ready for this at all, Lydia let out the loudest pleasure scream I. Father had finished getting ready and Just before eight I heard the door open and close as he went out. Shortly after that I heard Mother locked the main door and went to her bedroom. Was she getting ready? What would she put on? I waited for nearly fifteen/twenty tense and nervous minutes before I heard her door open. A second later mine slowly opened and she stepped into my room. My 39 years old mother had really done effort to look great herself. She wore pink coloured sari and blouse.. Hands clasping together, she stroked the skin of her bare fingers. “Speak.” It was a plea and a demand, and his tone made her smile. No one talked to her like that. Everyone treated her like she was porcelain, as if she needed extra care. Or a savior. That night she’d needed neither, and the man before her seemed to sense it. Hidden behind the mask in the cloak of night, she’d finally felt alive. Sunlight devoured the shadows as the earth awoke. A scratching at the gate made her look up. It. I hiss and arch my chest towards you, begging silently. As you move your lips from my ear to the tender flesh of my neck, you place a hand between my breasts and push my chest down. I try to move a breast under your hand, but you keep your touch firm and unmoving. You bite down hard, on the spot where the neck meets the shoulder, gripping the tendon tight and flicking your tongue along the now tender spot. I whimper and feel my pussy go from hot to boiling.You release your bite and nip your way.
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Dumbfounded, I shook my head. “We haven’t met!” I croaked, my mouth dry. “Yes we have Doug!” he told me, “It’s Ash, or as I prefer when
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