Jean, without thinking, pulled George in for a tongue filled kiss.“Right there daddy, you got me now” It was almost a yell. Starting slow, within ...wo minutes Jim had a nice steady fuck going on andMary was Oohing and Ahhing with every stroke, Jean couldn’t control herself, she crawled up and getting on her back and kissed Mary, “You are so beautiful, I hope I can be as good as you are. For the rest of her ass fuck, her bed buddy Jean softly caressed her hanging tits. Jean got to witness Mary. He always felt better after these late-night sessions. He felt---lighter, somehow; less agitated; less frustrated; less...angry. It was very the****utic. It felt a little like going to Confession! Of course, he couldn't go an actual priest and tell him the sort of things he felt at those moments, but it felt like the next best thing! In a sense, he, himself, WAS his own Confessor. There was no one else he could confide in! There really was something cathartic, and the****utic, about these late. The point is though, that anyone who gets a ten, has probably actually got a 9·96 or something like that. A perfect ten, and a perfect zero, are, I was told, a physical impossibility.”“Has anyone ever got a ten?”“Three I believe.” He paused in thought. “Okay. Right, so you’ve got your score. Now what exactly does that do? Well, just having the card, and therefore a score, means you’re allowed to be extracted. If you’ve never been tested, you cannot be extracted, no matter what score you might. Tum unko rokte nahin, Mom said. I replied, mummy main kis kis ko rokoon, sari duniya aapke naam ki muth maarti hai, ab to main bhi …… Tum bhi kya…Akhul ke sach sach kaho, yes . Say it for mummy, Mom said with a sexy smile. , kya tum bhi mere naam ki muth maarte ho, mom asked me and passed a sexy smile. Hai Mummy, ye apne kya poochh liya, . Mom passed another seductive smile and said, bolo na—yahan kucch bhi nahin chhupate, Haan mummy,main bhi aapke naam ki muth maarta hoon. Mummy jab aapne film.