"It's not so bad sweetie," Tara said. "Think of it this way, we finallyget to go to a concert, and you get a unique perspective on the femalepoint of...view."You mean." Oh no, not unless you want to," she smiled."I can't even imagine that," I said."So don't," she said, "just think about the fun we'll have at the concerttonight."I pulled my knees closer, what had I gotten myself into?The rest of the day passed quickly. I reluctantly became acquainted withmy new plumbing, which was even more. .." Busted! A frown slowly grew on her face. "What I mean is, ... here in France, you see that a lot. Women are less, ... well, more, ... I mean it's no big deal here." Maybe." She finally said, "but not your mother, that's gross." "Gross?!!" I asked her. "What's gross? It's not gross. It doesn't begin to be gross!" Her frown stayed. "It's beautiful! It is a beautiful look, I think." The frown stayed. "It's a beautiful look on you. I'm just sayin'." Her look was unreadable. "What? Like you. The blonde woman, who was introduced to me as “Emma,” was as sexy as could be. As she raised her arms to let him wash the sides of her breasts, I could see that she hadn’t bothered to shave her underarms. My cock stirred at the sight of her, or maybe it was Rita’s giving my own slippery cock a few strokes to wake it up. At any rate, it was thoroughly hard when the attendants dried us off and directed us to one of the larger cubicles, fitted out with two massage tables.It was the first time that. Her head and shoulders dropped back and her heavy tits loomed upward, thrusting. She dipped farther and her hair hung down, sweeping against the floor of the platform.She was so lithe, and limber that it seemed as if, had she been bending forwards instead of backwards, she could have gone down on herself--which, in fact, she could, and often did, as a sort of curtain call following the donkey-fuck.Gracefully, she sank down until her head and shoulders were braced on the platform. Her feet were.
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