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He kindly asked questions and also shared scenes he's been in that simultaneously made my clit throb and my body flinch. He too was married, though she didn't share his passion for his "dark side". Relationships are a series of trade-offs I suppose."Any interest in playing a little online submission game right now?" My instinctual reactions--what kind of game? I have boundaries you know. No, I won't give you my home address, even if my husband is away on business. Where's the thrill to the "online" aspect of submission? I was stupid enough to his Send for only one of those, then I decided fuck it--"sure, why not". "What is the sexiest outfit you currently own?" Fuck if I know--I work in a professional setting, have not had a good fucking in I don't know how long, and the only physical human contact I've had in months is from my students. I couldn't tell sexy from a goddamned lamppost. He settled upon a chemise--a piece I'd bought optimistically anticipating sex, that had remained. From the rear, he couldn’t tell her and her daughter apart. Her hips even had that same hypnotic sway. Suddenly, his choice of loose shorts became a bad idea. Concerned she’d notice, he hurried to the refrigerator and opened the door. Maybe a blast of cold air would help?It didn’t, but the handy lemonade pitcher provided some awkwardly carried cover. From the far side of the counter, Natalie watched him navigate with a grin. With all her experience, she probably knew the effect she had. After closing the distance, the intervening countertop gave him some needed coverage. Jason breathed a sigh of relief. “Would you like some unsweetened lemonade. I made it extra tart for Steph.”“Oh, the famous Thomas lemonade? Sure, I’ll try some.” Natalie brought out two glasses.He lifted the pitcher and realized he’d forgotten the ice. There was no way he’d make it across the kitchen and back without her noticing. This close, he couldn’t even make an adjustment. Not that the old “tuck it under your.
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