Jealous!” his accent was thick his English poor and he took a seat at her feet, running his hands over her legs grunting “sleep Demetri, no rats�...!” she realised this man mountain was saying he would stay and keep off the rats, and managed to smile at him weakly. His hand slid under her knicker-leg and he slid a finger into her body, strangely it was reassuring and for the remaing part of the night that’s how they stayed, her dozing fitfully and he with a fat finger in her body, motionless, she. A lick can be a paragraph. An arching hip can be a page. The sudden change in one's breathing can be an entire chapter.Emma's hand wanders lower and lower, drawn to the heat in herself emanating from below. Fingers glide along the soft layer of thin cotton panties that cling to her skin from how wet she's become. Up and down, her fingertips make a slow trail. She loves to tease herself as well, so patient even though she longs to plunge a finger deep within herself to help relieve a powerful. More

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