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Almost enough. Sometime during the week, I'd finally accepted that yes, I was in love with him, and had been forever. Which led to the realization that, at some point, if I was very very lucky, I'd be able to fuck him. And as soon as I realized that, I had a hard time thinking of anything else.I hadn't seen him naked since we were kids, and I was overcome with curiosity about what he was like under all those stupid clothes. I knew he was solid, and strong. Was he hairy? Was he big? His girlfriends had all spoken glowingly of his prowess, and that he was 'plenty big enough' down there. But I wanted to see it. I wanted to touch it, taste it. I wanted it inside of me most of all, and with a flash all of my hornyness was back with a vengeance. A small part of me had worried that it would be weird. Too much like incest or something, until I remembered how it felt when he'd smelled my hair. John wasn't like my brother. He was closer than my family, and different. And I wanted him in the. As soon as I reached her neck, her hand found its way under her shorts, and she began playing with herself. I then kissed her lightly, and I ran my fingers through her wavy blond hair. I paused to make eye contact, then resumed kissing her neck, moving downwards kissing her soft skin. I removed her shorts with my teeth then kissed her hairless pussy. I had never seen another woman's pussy before, and the excitement was almost overwhelming. I had to control myself, as I didn't want to hurt her.I kissed her inner thigh, then her pussy. She was already soaking wet! I licked her dripping juices. It was a new taste, but I definitely didn't mind it. I did enjoy it more than my own, I must admit. I began to play with her clit. I rubbed it switching from a slow circular motion, to a faster back and forth type of motion. I almost had an orgasm watching her squirm, and hearing those moans. I placed two fingers in her hot pink pussy and began to move my hand in and out of her soaking wet cunt..
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’ ‘Yes it is. I got tired of all the reporters calling me for a statement. But please come in. The dinner sounds like a great idea. Why don’t you take it into the kitchen and I’ll run up and get changed into something more presentable.’ Mother and daughter walked into the kitchen and Father Francis dashed upstairs to change. He reappeared in his black shirt, slacks and white collar about the time the girls had set the table. It was a fabulous dinner of fried chicken, green beans, cottage fries and apple pie. They chatted about inconsequential things, the two adults trying to avoid discussion of the events of Friday night and Saturday. When they finished, they were clearing the dishes and Father Francis said, ‘I’m sorry the dishwasher is broken so we will have to do it the old fashioned way. You wash and I’ll wipe.’ He had to find a wooden soda crate for her to stand on to reach the kitchen sink. She was looking out the window when she cried out in alarm, ‘There’s a huge dog out there.

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