"Holy fuck... That thing is fat..." I thought, practically feeling the entire shaft against my crack.I stumbled a bit into what I could tell was the l...vingroom. His hands left my shoulders and I no longer felt his bulge against my ass. I could hear the movement of his mesh shorts, but I couldn't tell where he was. It then dawned on me that I had no idea if we were alone. I knew that the hockey player had set up this evening with some "hung twink" but I had no idea if he was there or not. For. I was somewhat taken aback when Rosamund rose and made the introductions, at which the newcomer addressed herself to me in native Low Dietsch, which of course took me completely by surprise."This is Mevrouw Kaete Rosenhagen née van Bruggen, the widow of your Uncle Paul who died last month in Limburg," Rosamund explained.I had never met Uncle Paul; he and my father were brothers but couldn't stand each other. Rosamund had somehow become entangled in the affair through the London bank and now. More

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