Ashlyh, you will always wait until we are ready for this, but expect it to happen again, whenever we desire it. You’re a peach that’s barely turne... ripe and I love your sweetness, your juices, your freshness, girl. You’re what I was before I turned bitter and hateful,” Cersei said, kneeling to taste Ashlyh’s cunt on his cock.“Delicious. Juicy. Sweet. Ripe. Fresh. Just as I know that you are. Don’t put your clothes back on just yet. Let me taste you and see if I can get a rise out of my. The serene classical guitar music always calmed her troubled spirit.Then she picked up her toy and began cleaning it, humming to the music. After that, she returned it to the drawer from which it came.When she returned to the bathroom, she went over to the tub, turned on the water, and added her favorite scented bath crystals. When it was full she exhaled and climbed in. The aromatic liquid felt like it was caressing her with a million tiny fingers. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her. “Is that what you want beautiful?” “Yes baby, I want your big beautiful cock in me.” I pull my fingers from her pussy and push down her shorts and panties, revealing her perfect tight ass. Her hand guides me into her waiting cunt. Her pussy is warm, wet, soft and tight. I start to move slowly. She pushes back against me as I fuck her. We can hear another group upstairs rehearsing and discussing their piece. I start to fuck her harder. She pushes back against me, one of her hands sliding between. By now though my mind was in a turmoil, but I knew Ihad to escape, so it was now or never. All was quiet, so I quickly openedthe back door and could see the barn ahead of me, so I let myself out asquietly as I could and crept across the empty yard; only to walk straightinto the Hulk who had just stepped out of the barn.Being grabbed by the neck was more painful than before as I was marchedback into the kitchen, feeling utterly dejected. A flood of yelled wordsbrought the other three running in.
Read MoreYou’d better not be trifling with my emotions!”“Trifling?” asked Bob, trying not to smile.“That’s what my Aunt Sophie would call it,” sh
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