“How simply divine! What are we waiting for? Heavy cummers have always been my favourite! Follow me.”Clutching me tightly by the hand, she climbed...the farmhouse’s oak staircase two at a time, as if we were retreating from a fire.Her boudoir was 100 per cent feminine, with not a vestige of Uncle Ned’s presence: no muddy gaiters or hob-nailed boots. It was how I imagined a high-class Parisian harlot’s parlour would look. Draped with diaphanous curtains flapping languidly in the breeze, it was. Her soft walls are glossy with her juices and so she slides down right to the hilt. Her head arches back to look up into the sky. Feeling her muscles clamp down on him, he reaches forward with his mouth and bites down on her shoulder. At first slowly she starts rocking on him, as he bends down further and sucks on her nipples. As the tempo increases he can’t keep up with her undulating body. Her body goes limp except to hold herself in position as she uses her wings to flap her way up, and. More

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