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So hard to concentrate when his fingers were inside her! She wasdetermined not to make anymore mistakes though so she held position.Soft whimpers were escapingfrom her lips as Master worked his fingers inside her?pulling out far enough toworry her swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger. She kept her legsspread, but could not stop her hips from undulating for him.?That?s it my little animal,whimper for me! React to your Masters touch! Feed on what he gives you! Rememberthe pleasure I allow you to feel,? he whispered in her ear.He removed his hand, andinstantly she moaned from the emptiness she felt. The throb in her cunt was sodistracting. If she were alone her hand would be there?caressing, bringing herbody to a wonderful climax. Her hands were cuffed; there was no way to relievethe pressure built up by Masters skilled hands. He held his fingers to herlips. She licked at them, sucked them into her mouth; all of them at first,then each individual finger, sucking and lapping,. After sending a few initial messages to a few interesting profiles I hopped into the shower to freshen up. As I was flushing my man hole and trimming my pubes my cock got ahead of itself and though tempting as it was to pull off in the shower, I settled for some precum and a little edging.After toweling off I checked messages and was thrilled to find two replies. My first option was a guy in drag who wanted to come over and be my slut for the evening. His/her pic looked very cute and passable, an enticing hole and a huge cock. We exchanged a few messages and it became clear my caller was a bottom only. While this was not a deal breaker normally, for this night, I was hoping for some versatile action. I explained my preference for the night and he/she told me to keep him/her in mind if I had no luck finding what I wanted.My second option was a newbie who was more leaning to top but agreed to possibly “flip” afterwards. I knew I was taking a chance but I had gone to the trouble of.
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She wrapped her robe around herself more tightly and tied the sash. The scene outside made her cold, even though the room was warm and snug, the air perfumed by the flowers she’d brought back from her niece’s wedding. ‘You remember the date?’ she asked. ‘Of course I do. You don’t?’ ‘November 30th,’ she said. ‘Twenty four years and two weeks ago.’ ‘And when were you married?’ He had the sheets and blanket pulled up to his waist, his foot poking out of the bottom. He didn’t smoke out of respect for her, and he missed it. ‘February eighteenth. We sent you an invitation.’ He laughed. ‘ I know. I think I still have it. As if I was going to go to your wedding, Peggy. And then when did the divorce come through?’ ‘Seven years ago. We were married seventeen years altogether. It’s funny—it seems like so much longer since the divorce. But then, we hadn’t been getting along for years. Separate bedrooms, separate vacations, the whole bit, so it was hardly like we were even married towards the.

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