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Karen was quite a contrast to Mary. She had thick shoulder length raven hair, and a killer body. Shorter than Mary, she had large firm breasts, a narr...w waist, flat shaped stomach, wide hips, and shapely legs. She was beautiful, too. Both Karen and John were from the South, and together made the classic "American Couple." And yes, in the thin-walled, tiny apartment, Mary and I often heard their love songs, as they often heard ours. Needless to say, I had regular fantasies about Karen, but would. "Leave that up to Fawn, baby," Joan replied. "You don't have to do anything but get a hard-on. I think she'll do the rest." Really?" he asked again, his eyes glowing, his cock straining at his pants. "You think she'll fuck me, Mom, really?" Why don't you take that hard-on you're getting down there and find out?" she smiled at him. "Once she sees your hard cock, I bet she won't be able to keep her hands off it." Like you, Mom?" Ted laughed."Mmm, like me."Ted got to his feet, pacing up and down. The long hours and little time at home didn't seem to bother her because she always wanted to her daughters to have all the little things they would have had if their father had stayed. The girls did not lack anything material but shure did miss the warmth of their mother, it's because she was always working one job or the other. When there paths would cross Olivia would always try to explain to them that it is worth the sacrifice.Olivia at the age of fourty two she still had a beautiful body. But this is different, Gina.? ?Whatever? Gina replied, ?Anyway, the truth is the truth.? On the stand, Gina stated: "What does it matter who is to blame? My story is a love story, but only those tortured with love can understand what I mean. I am portrayed as a sado-masochistic nymphomaniac, lesbian and bisexual. I am not mean, cruel, unfeeling, stupid or moronic. In the history of the world how many crimes have been attributed to love? And since when has one?s love ever killed another?She was.

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Growing up was tough as it is with everyone, but growing up with a poor drunk father and a mom who took his crap day in and day out, well, I knew what...I didn’t want my life to be when I grew up. Poor, powerless and dominated. Dad wasn’t abusive physically, but his words hurt mom and she just took it. Ever the submissive. He never yelled at me, his only child, but the way he treated mom hurt me more than it seemed to ever hurt her. The only times I remember them loving each other was at night. Then he did something that wasn't like cooking a turkey. "I want you to feel what it is like being fucked by a horse and the joy of its massive orgasm." Placing the syringe near my still clamped and spread pussy lips, he shoved it into my vagina all the way up to the bulb end. With each depression of the baster's bulb, squirts of the liquid flowed inside me. The feeling was weird but pleasant. He pressed the bulb again and again filling my insides with a massive amount of oil. It overflowed. More

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