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Her breasts. Her legs. It was so soft compared to her flailing. Then, as she tired, he wedged himself between her legs. "I want that kiss now," he said. His mouth crushed against hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she bit it. He drew back, smiled, and bit her lip until it hurt. Then, he positioned himself and thrust as much of himself into her and he physically could. She couldn't help it; she moaned. "Is that my whore moaning for me?" he asked. "No," she gasped. "I think it is." He. They explained that Mr. Pussyman had invited them. Ah, you are the ones he said. Yes, come in by all means!He led them to a series of rooms in the warehouse that were set up like various rooms in a house. Then to the dressing room. They were met by Mr Pussyman and a whole crew of makeup and wardrobe people. He explained how the process goes and how they may need to do several takes for each scene so they need to listen to the director. The girls were nervous about that part but agreed and. .. fall right into you for sure... my neck is my weak spot how did you know?” “I imagined us holding our naked bodies tightly together, my erection plainly obvious between our soapy bodies. I don't know how I knew about your neck, but I find my gaze drawn there whenever I look at you - maybe it's part of our connection.” “Oh it must be!!! Your warm breath across the back of my neck would wake up all my senses, sooo very fast! My nipples would stand on end and my skin would be fully alive and a. Time passed. Her right hand that had stroked my forehead now cradled my cheek, her thumb softly rubbing my left eyebrow. My eyes closed. I felt the warmth of her face close to mine and felt her eyes watching me. Her thumb made love to my eyebrow, carefully, soothingly. Then her thumb stilled and her hand pressed my cheek almost imperceptibly, and her very warm, moist, soft lips fit themselves perfectly to mine -- a strangely unsexual, unwanting kiss, a simple touching. She did this several.
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