I loved the feel of his long thick cock as it entered any of my fuck holes. Today I took the son back to my toy room. I took of his shirt and let my r...be fall to the floor and I was now naked. I undid his jeans and jerked them down below his knees. He was semi hard and had a big dick like his dad. I took his hands and put them each on a tit and then I began to tongue kiss his mouth as I reached for his dick. It took no time to get him rock hard. I then took one of his hands and put it between. He could feel blood flowing from the spot Leira was biting on his shoulder, the same exact place she’d nailed a couple minutes ago. But the sight of this beautiful woman, cumming for the fifth time that evening while rocking blissfully up and down on his cock, was more than enough to make him forget about the pain. After what seemed like an eternity but was really probably only a minute or so, Leira’s undulations subsided, and she collapsed on top of him, panting and breathing heavily, unable. You sit quietly, watching the movie, with my hand resting on your thigh and your hand on top. As the movie goes on, you slowly start pulling my hand up your leg as I stroke you, until it’s resting on the top of your jeans. You reach down and unbutton them, and push my hand down your jeans, inside your panties and against your warm bare flesh. You hold me there and slowly start to slide forward, so you can rub your clit against my hand, pressing yourself on me. You keep doing this, on and on,. Maybe she needed to join one of those lesbian girl-power groups or see a psychiatrist who would probably end up chasing her around a desk. Still, nothing flowed from her pen, the pains of sitting upright in bed distracting her. No wonder, she thought, that most people don’t think very much. The mind must hide trauma so well as to transform the brain itself into a virtual file cabinet of fear and torment, entire sectors of thought isolated and shut down like a surging power grid if only to save.
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