Naughty Village Wife Sex With Her Secret Bf

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They held for precious moments savouring one another's taste.Finally easing away, Meg fell back on the bed. Though Matthew would have loved another of her exquisite blowjobs, the urge to fuck his eldest sister was quite overwhelming. Meg twisted the knot of the towel, first unveiling her pert breasts then, as it fell away completely, a beautiful pussy. Allowed to grow naturally, the downy bush had a mousy brown tinge.Exhaling deeply, Matthew heaved clear the top, exhibiting a manly chest and strong muscular arms. Shimmying down the shorts, he allowed Meg a moment to savour his physique and rapidly inflating manhood before pouncing on her, their mouths locked. Meg pushed up her knees and parted her thighs whilst shifting her body to mould into his. "Fuck me, Matthew," she implored.He didn't need asking twice. Cock in a state readiness, he reached down to cup her pussy, appraising its moistness with two roving fingers. They slid in to the knuckle before the cunt walls clenched back.. Lisa cried out in pain, "2,3,4,5......20" counted out Kirsty.Lisa's make up was smearing with her tears. "Rachael if you'd like to assist with this examination, please feel free." Rachael walked round positioning herself behind Lisa in her chair. "i'll squeeze her nipples whilst you test her pussy and ass hole." Announced Rachael."Good idea, take her mind off me fisting her" Kirsty gleamed.Thwack, sounded the latex gloves as Kirsty stretched them over her hands, deafining out the pleas of Lisa.Followed by the squelch of the lubrication as it is applied to Kirsty's hands. Kirsty worked immediately three fingers in and out of Lisa pussy."squeeze those nipples hard mind" Kirsty ordered.With that Rachael piled on the pressure between her thumb and forefingers on Lisa already erect nipples.Lisa squirmed in agony, pain and adrenaline surging through her veins. Kirsty carried on working her fist into Lisa, once up to the wrist she started to probe Lisa arse hole, and with out warning.
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He took my coat, and I sank onto his bed, removing my shoes and bouncing to a comfortable spot. He joined me, lit a dim lamp and some incense, and put his arm around me. Two years have dimmed the details of what came next and when. I only have snippets and pictures that overlap each-other like transparencies in a book, in no particular order. I remember that he was incredibly gentle, and that when I looked into his eyes, I was amazed to see in them that he loved me. He was as honest and open as I am, showing me the sores on his penis and assuring me that it would stay inside his underwear for now. I felt grateful that there was a binding reason not to have intercourse, because I have difficulty reaching orgasm with a partner, and always ultimately feel cheated when the man gets his and I don’t. But somehow, this man and this night seemed made to order for me and my needs, and indeed, he was at my service. He danced for me, the dance of a Raven. He made his body a gift to me, to do.

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