I believe you’re expecting me.”Her name, I knew, was Sarah. She reached out an elegant hand covered in expensive-looking jewellery and beckoned me...to sit.Smiling broadly, she offered me a glass of the champagne that sat in ice on their table and introduced herself and her husband. She had been a school headteacher until a couple of months ago and was relishing her new-found freedom now she was retired, her husband John was a ‘businessman’ – I didn’t push it any further – and had no intention of. Please..." she whimpered futilely, almost soundlessly slapping her hand against the rough side of the log cabin. "I'm dying ... somebody..."When she fainted, she didn't even feel her head hit the wall.Tia sat up, concern written on her face. The motion attracted Murielle's attention and she turned her head, shading her eyes from the crystal sun with one hand. "What?" she asked."I dunno," Tia confessed. "I think something might've happened to Miranda. Tony's hunting her, right?"Murielle closed. We are now scarlet gash to scarlet gash. We trib away, slipping and sloshing about. We screw Nuru style and grind on each other. Viscous and thick, our juices mix in a high tide of delight! (Ho!)We are blood sisters, howling and growling, united by the full moon. We bleed into each other, sharing wounds of bliss. Our copious fluids meet and join us together.I groan (I’m about to come big!) yet I stop myself so I can hear all her cries and whispers, echoing from so far away. “Besame. “OOhhh, myyyy...” She gasps quietly, beginning to lose herself in the moment – relaxing and letting the side of her head touch his chest ... Resting it against him, hearing his huge heart thumping away.As she pauses there, sensing his power, breathing deep – each lungful of air expanding her ribcage and squashing her big tits harder against him – she slips her hand off his front leg, across to hers, and then down between her legs, to rub three fingers over her panties ... Moaning a little as.