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Jen’s apron strap was grabbed by her mother.“The alien!” She hissed.“Should be with Maura right now.” Jen whispered. They gave legitimate screams as the deputies rushed through the living room and dining room with their rifle muzzles down.“Two females. I got them.” Said one deputy.“That smells really good, Mrs Goldsworth.” The other smiled behind his facemask. “Pumpkin? Mm mm. Anyway, Joel, keep an eye on ‘em. I’ll clear the basement.”The first deputy waited. He awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. He surveyed the kitchen. There were already five pies lined up for the oven that was baking the first two. “That’s a lot of pies.”“Yes, down at Our Lady of the Stars. We do it every year.” Mrs Goldsworth wiped her shaking hands on her apron. Jen stayed behind her mother’s shoulders.“Good work, Deputy.” The sheriff walked with Agent Barrow. He tipped his hat to the mother and daughter. “Ma’am. Miss.”“What’s going on?” Jen asked. Barrow shook his head at the sheriff. The sheriff frowned. He. She ground back into me.She soon had that amazing look: the one a guy never forgets: the deep intense concentrated brow wrinkled belief in imminent full sexual release...she knows its hers...she knows she getting it...she wants its...needs it...then it floods through her...the tsunami orgasm.Verity, I could see on her face and in her brow lines: believed in her body’s capacity to give, she believed in the raunch of the moment...I believed in it too...her deep husky moans...my guttural primal groans...our humping and grinding together...we believed in the capacity of sex to fucking give us everything as we fucked. Yes: we fucked...we fucked...and we fucking got it all.Then, yes or yes, she wanted it in her arse again; for her and my finale, what a niece.“My arse you sod, keep it, don’t spill it yet, my arse, my arse...ram that big fat fuckin' cock of my dreams and fantasy's back where it belongs...god you owe me...you owe me...fuck I double fingered my arse till it was tingly raw.
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