??That’s correct,? interjected Lady Kavanagh. ?Now gentlemen, please don’t be embarrassed, but I need to remove my jeans in order for you to fulfi... your tasks.?Lady Kavanagh walked three paces from the two men, from the gravel to the grass, kicked off her sandals and with barely a pause, slipped her jeans down. They stopped around her ankles and she then kicked them off.The men drew in a collective breath. Lady Kavanagh’s posterior was simply magnificent. Peters, never slow when it came to. Her lips brushed his ear, tongue flickering out, breath warm and fragrant."My lover – my tree!" she whispered.Your husband's employee, too, Dan thought – but knew it was not the sort of thing to say, in the romance of the moment, the heat of this pastoral encounter, the primitive passion of this bucolic mating.She perched on his cockhead, gripping with her thighs, her weight surprisingly light in his cupped hands despite the formidable meat of well-packed ass and tits. She was keeping herself. More

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