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”Over the next few days, he tried many different programs, but none of them could hold his interest. Even his own bestselling crime series, “Frank...in Jones Investigates,” he found boring. He hated to admit it to himself, but he missed his dear Demi. He figured he needed to see her again, to touch her, to smell her.“Computer...” he said as he entered the Holodeck, “do you have enough data on file to create a facsimile of Demi Huskley?”The computer answered in a soft, sensual, female voice,. I pulled over; we were mostly hidden from the road and with the lights off no one would see us. I turned off the engine and lights; the moonlight was enough to allow me to see Dishita as she rammed the vibrator deeper and deeper, faster and faster, bring herself to orgasm again.She looked at me, a dreamy look in her eyes, and said “I wanted you to pull over because I have uncontrollable desire to watch you masturbate for me.” At that time she could have asked me to do anything in the world and. I felt cool slim fingers on my shaft. She seemed to be measuring it, moving her finger tips up from my balls to the tip then back again several times.She pulled my cock from inside my underwear so it was standing straight up and just outside my pants. I felt her butt move back a bit as her hand slipped under her miniskirt. I don't know how she did it because neither of us could move much, but she pulled her panties down her slender legs and somehow got them up into her hand. She whispered. “Like looking at that baby? He has lots of good moves,” Sarah smirks as I tease and edge my erection with just a fingertip. He has turned me on almost as much as my lady as I ogle his erection and Sarah’s ass in his hands. Then, I am standing with my back against the wall. I am completely naked apart from a cock ring fastened under my balls. My lady is tongue kissing me and teasing my nipples with a fingertip.Emile, our twenty-two year old toy boy is doing wonderful things to my raging,.

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She inserts a finger into my cunt, and then one more, not minding the pee that I know is still down there. "You're so wet, baby. Are you turned on by ...ommy with her clothes off?" I gulp an affirmative. "Mommy didn't hear that, baby." "Yes," I choke out, mouth dry as a desert. "Yes, what?" Normally when she said this, she meant for me to say "yes ma'am" like the polite Southern girl I am. This time, I don't think that's what she wants. She keeps saying Mommy. . . Does she want me to call her. In front of our Villa on the main road itself there was a small wooden shop, for cigarette and paan, we used to call it as paan gumti (that’s what they address such shops in Chattisgarh). The owner was a guy called Shyam who was quite a weak and old looking guy for the age that he used to say. The shop used to be his fathers who had passed away long back leaving his mother and him to handle the affairs. His mother was pretty old but a very talkative and social lady and used to come home every. More

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