She spread her legs apart, lifting her right leg giving me a view of her cleft. Her hair was thick and hid everything except the profile of her pussy....Her tits hung down and begged to be touched, to be massaged, and yes to be suckled by her son. It had been over 20 years since my eyes had seen her breasts and my lips had contacted those nipples. In the fog of my testosterone fueled mind there was this dim memory of the softness of a breast and the rubbery nipple between my lips. “It must be. She too was ready to be blushed endlessly when I gaze at her. I followed her everywhere to get an opportunity to view her cleavage. She showed it at every opportunity and I admired and got crazy thinking about her breasts. She was sixteen but her breasts were really big and sexy. At every opportunity my hand touched her breasts, though it lasted for a second, as if happened unintentionally. She too waited for these accidents. Days and months passed remaining ourselves outwardly sister and. More

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