There were no toys strewn across her Persian carpets. No happy family portraits sitting on her mahogany mantle. No joyous voices calling out for her, ...appy to have her return home. All she had were things. Cold, hard, unyielding items that didn’t love her, comfort her, couldn’t hold her close. Was this what she’d really wanted when she’d come to America? What she’d fought so hard to achieve? Things? Her sobs began to lessen and Brenna sat her purse and briefcase on the floor, kicking off the. ”I was floored. First of all, I didn’t want to be thought of as a piece of property over which to be fought. Then I thought, “What the heck, just lie back and enjoy it.”I sure didn’t want to come between two good friends, one of whom I was inextricably married to. Cynthia rocked back and forth on top of me, my cock pressing against her vagina.“I like what I’m feeling,” Cynthia said, pressing herself against my tool.“Me too,” I replied.Cynthia lifted up and slipped the head of my cock into her. More

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