Most, probably all, of the stories that comprised my learning material were largely a figment of someone's imagination, but I hoped I was smart enough...to tell buttermilk from sour milk and decide what was possible, what was probable and what was fabricated out of whole cloth. Patience and observation were going to be my best tools.I plopped down beside Mom, after handing her the glass. The movie was just starting and I turned up the volume so we could hear, then leaned back and put my arm. My memory holds true with the perfect shade of her reddened cheeks. They changed gradually from snow white to fire engine red as the blows from my paddle stacked up into an impressive cumulative quantity of affronts to her self-respect.The feel of being fully seated in her saddle at the final act of such sessions tended to make me ache with the need to keep her sensuous rump under my control. I would guide her with my knees and dig my fingers into her yielding flesh just before giving her the. Mai nosheen ko oil la nay k liya kaha aur aaja mai phela tera gaand marna chata hun tho wo oil la kay aagiee my isko doggy style position bed per khada kardia mai iska gaand ko dekha tho bahut muliyam tha,5 min tak gaand ko chuma aur dhaba raha tha, is kay baad mera lund aur gaand per oil apply kiya nosheen ka thighs ko tight se pakad kar mera lund ko gaand per adjust kar k rakha aur eak zor dar jhatka marnay kay baad aadha lund undar chala giya muje tho gaand marnay may be acha experience hai,. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up slightly. He curled his other arm under her butt, holding her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist; her frame leaned into his, he carried her petite figure up the steps to his bedroom. They were ready, more than ready. He released her hair; turning the knob of his bedroom door. He could hear her hard breathing, knowing he’d have to take her slowly. He didn’t care, he just wanted her. He needed her.“Ian…” Her voice trailed off as he sat.