Don't..." 'Fuck!' John thought, 'What the fuck was I thinking? I've so gone and fucked this up now, what have I done...?' He tried to apologise. "I, I...m sorry, Natalia, I didn't mean-" "Don't you dare stop fingering my tight little asshole!" she yelled. John felt his excitement return; his cock was beginning to swell again. He also felt a sudden burst of cheekiness. "In England, we say arsehole." "What?" "We don't say asshole, we say arsehole." "I don't care, just don't stop!" John returned to. She tries to get me to go but that’s just not me. That’s not how Suzuki rolls.I guess you could say I was loved by my moms and my aunts at different times in my life and the best thing for me was to stay with mother and try and build a relationship.When my mother was running the streets doing whatever she pleased. I would see her maybe once a month if that. Sometimes when my mother came around and I was in my room she did not even say anything to me, I didn’t exist to her. I remember one day. There was this ancient collection of buildings located in the mountains. It was in a valley with huge tall columns of stone, many were over a kilometer across at the top. The men and women that raised me were not monks but former soldiers seeking peace while teaching boys and girls.They taught me fighting in its many forms. They also made sure I was educated and learned the many different sciences. At least once or twice a week the woman from the graveyard would call and we would talk.. As we continue to kiss, i delicately place my hand on your cheek, an caress down to your neck, i can feel my clit becoming inflamed, saturatd an pulsating an my breath quickening with every second that passes. pulling back sligthly, i look into your eyes an can tell youre ready for more, not only by the lustful gaze i recieve but also by the bulge that cant be concealed. you invite me to stand an we make our way up to bedroom, my hand in yours, you turn an smile at me as we climb the stairs, i.