The feel of feminine flesh around my manhood was only a few weeks old to me, but I'd felt it many, many times recently, but even still it shuts off my...brain and curls my toes with ecstasy. Everything else was forgotten. My word and plans meant nothing. Neither did the fact that the woman I was now making love to was my sister. All that mattered was the squelching wetness enveloping me, the short pleated skirt rustling over my hips, the soft delicate fingers pushing down on my chest, and the. The wife would sometimes follow be back to apartment. You need to stop looking at my sisters arse, that way I want have to gave you a quick blow job. I was forever fucking the wife from behind when ever we had holidays with them. I'd imagine I was fucking her sisters arse. The loved that her sister could get me so hot. Sometimes the wife would lend one of her sisters outfits and pretend that she was her, she'd tell me how her sister was always asking what my cock looked like, and how it felt. More

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