He was dressed as the others, that is, in a style that seemed a little antiquated. There were some oddities about his dress. His foot coverings, for e...ample, were more or less like the ones the group wore but seemed to be made of some strange material. Not cotton, not wool, not leather. He extended his hand to Gérard.“Hello, my name is Jonathan.”Gérard shook hands. “My pleasure. I am Gérard. These are my foster sister Amélie, and our friends Sandrine and Roger.” The other three greeted. You...I...this can’t happen, it’s not right,” I somehow stammered out. Not that I hadn’t fantasized about it, and not that I didn’t have a raging hard-on from the contact and seeing Candice mostly nude and lying pretty seductively, in my bed. Sex with a woman has been almost non-existent since we lost her mother 8 years ago, and I’ve done my best to raise her, but even though I fantasized about something like this happening, I never dreamed Candice might feel the same. Still, you can’t fuck. More

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