My sister squeezed my boobs. Lasla gasped and moaned, squirming on Mother’s face.“Las’s big dick, I’m going to cum!” gasped Layla. “Ooh, t...at’s it, slave. Just keep licking me there. I’m so close.”“Yes, Mistress Lasla!” Mother purred. I heard sucking.Lasla squealed. She bucked. I nursed on her bud. Her hand shot from my tits to grab the back of my head. Her fingers slid through my tresses and held me to her boob. She moaned and gasped as she squirmed on our mother’s face.I popped my mouth off. You’re Southern, so Yank still doesn’t sound right to your ears, but you know my meaning. Quincy gives me my warm fuzzies, but Harvey makes me feel safe. You each bring something special to the table, you see. I got a London barkeep for a husband, one who reminds me of Bob fucking Hoskins, has that whole ‘salt of the earth’ quality. A regular, working-class bloke. The sort that my lot has fucked over far too many times. At least when I screw you, love, you’ll enjoy it! I’ve long wanted to give. More

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