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Instructing me to lick you in long slow wide licks so I don't miss any of your presious sweat, throughly cleaning you. As you tease my tied cock and b...lls with your vibrater. Working it up and down my shaft, over my restrained balls. My cock twitches dances like it does whenever it's about to cum! You slap my cock hard making it sting in pain, I sing out and jump; but can't make a noise, can't move! You've sat back on my face harder adding more weight to my chest, pinning me to the bed with. “Today is your lucky day” is what I replied back as I proceeded to uncontrollably blow a huge load all over her mouth and face.“Mmmmm, that’s so bitter” was her reaction.“Now, lick me stupid”. She ordered me with pure lust in her eyes as she stood up. I put my hand into her leggings and massaged her clitoris. “Aahhh” was the immediate reaction. Her pussy was completely wet by this time. I didn’t waste any time and pulled her leggings and panties off simultaneously.It was my turn now to return. My dad moved to this hick town when I was nine years old, he was the new foreman of the mid-shift at Papermore's paper mill in Grinnell Iowa, in other words B.F.E. Working the mid-shift meant I couldn't make noise during the day as dad was sleeping so I read ALOT. By the time I was in the eighth grade I knew I couldn't handle living in this town. There is literally only two options work for the paper mill or some sort of customer service in town supporting the paper mill, no way not me. So. She made a little sniffing noise."You're crying," I said, making her jump a little. "What's wrong?"She sniffed, but kept her head down, pressed against me. "Nothing." Why are you crying?" I'm not going to tell you."Well, this was a new wrinkle. I thought a few minutes, listening to her little sniffing noises. "I want you to do something for me. Will you?"She looked up me, tears glistening in her eyes. "What?"I gently put my hand on her head and forced it back down to my chest, where she'd had.
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Why would she want me to take care of this worthless hunk of glass, Stephanie thought. She walked into the living room, caressing the sofa she and her...cousins spent many Saturdays jumping on, while watching cartoons. She was on her way upstairs to take one last look at the bedroom she slept in for eighteen years. As she took her first step up the staircase, she heard a voice say, ‘Stephanie, please don’t forget the glass jar.’ Stephanie turned around with fear in her heart. ‘Is someone in. Typically, the most I saw of Muffin was on the weekends, and even then it was usually in the mornings before we headed off to our activities for the day — which in her case typically meant spending the day working at a local mall. I had forgotten about my daughter’s unusual return from school when I heard her bedroom door finally open again before she descended the stairs. A few moments later, she came into the living room as I was flipping channels, not particularly sure what was worth. More

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