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In and out his fingers gently moved while the water flowed down Amy's arching back. "Take me to the bed and have my ass," Amy murmured. "Carry me ther..., place me on all fours, and fuck me like the dirty girl I am." Eric picked her up without drying her off and carried her to the bed before placing her still dripping body down on her knees as requested. Amy dropped her face into a pillow while elevating her ass in offering to him. Eric then coated his cock well with lubricant before moving into. In a flowing script, that I recognized as hers, on the cover it said ?Only Once.? I opened it up and was shocked. There was my Alyssa, her back arched off the ground as a belt came down on her tits and her pussy gushing. I flipped through the pages. She had done this for me. My mother had taken the pictures, it was her brilliant photography. She was red and wet arched off the bed, practically flying. Her amber eyes were glazed over. The last picture was perfect. The whole time she had been. Drs. Punjab and Altinon will see you soon. They’re anxious to speak with you. Now that you’re awake, I can bring your family in if you want.”“Please, and tell the surgeons to hurry.”It was several minutes later, after they’d wheeled him to a more recessed corner of the recovery room, when Toni and Jane entered. They were accompanied by Mathew Tate, Phil’s lawyer.They hurried over, taking tiny steps to avoid disturbing the silence. Mathew took his time, allowing the women to go first. Phil. His hands slid upwards, under her hair, to cup her naked breasts.“I love the feel of these too,” he said, squeezing them, and lifting them. His fingers found her fat nipples and squeezed gently. She moaned, and leaned back against him.“I want to make love to you,” he whispered.Her involuntary step toward the bed might have been disaster, had he not been holding her breasts. Her left foot caught in the panties and shorts that were puddled around her feet, and she would have fallen, but his hands.

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He'd never remember his name or his life, but he would never be unhappy. If he died, Ilan wouldn't feel too guilty. She watched him writhing in his sl...ep. She listened to his moans. She closed her eyes and made an adjustment to the fantasy. The girls were begging to be bedded now. They needed him buried in their sweet little pockets. Ilan was alive now, and human, but not at all attractive. She looked and smelled of disease. The drunk would need his fantasies. She lay down beside him and. I started to excuse myself, but Ivan insisted I join them. Interestingly, the guy who sat behind Ivan was not invited. Perhaps Ivan really was the boss.When we arrived at Ivan’s suite, we were greeted by a statuesque German woman named Kristol. She was a stunning-looking platinum blonde, slightly taller than Ivan, and carried herself with great assurance. Ivan introduced us to her, then excused himself to freshen up.Kristol asked what we wanted to drink. Hans asked for a beer, and I asked for. More

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