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When we returned, Paula was still flushed and panting. Her fingers lazily circled her clit as she batted her eyelashes at us coyly. We helped her to her feet. John climbed onto the bed and pulled Paula on top of him. I held his cock as she slid her wet cunt down on him. They wriggled and adjusted themselves as I climbed onto the bed and squatted behind Paula's tempting ass. I grabbed her hips, enjoying guiding her up and down as she fucked John's thick cock. I had them slow to a stop, rubbing my cock against John's and edging it closer and closer to Paula's already very full cunt. The first attempt I made at pushing into her made John slip free. I hastily tucked him back inside my wife and made another attempt, this time firmly holding her hips and keeping John buried inside of her. I'm sure we all moaned in unison as my cock head parted her lips, the first few inches disappearing neatly. The tightness was overwhelming. When we tried to buck and move together, I slipped out. Paula. Once again her strong features dripped with semen the stuff like a veil of slime her mouth opening to catch a breath the veil looking like she had the plastic back over her until the thin come blanket split open the contents dropping into her mouth.The exhausted satisfied men pulled her upright to face the camera. Her face was like a clowns makeup gone wrong. Big patches of white skin; caked in men’s deposit her eyes blackened at the rims as her eye-liner ran. “What do you say?” Barked the Yank.“Th-thank you,” groaned the ravished backpacker.She suddenly stiffened and screamed as she saw something out of shot. The Kiwi watched in horror as on the video she struggled as the big bulk of the Yank came into view.He had a hypodermic syringe in his hand and the viewing man gulped as they injected her. Within seconds the Lara was limp.The scene faded out then slowly reappeared. The men were in a car bodies pressed against the lens arms against windows as the vehicle streaked through hot.
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Jane was the picture of refined elegance in her actually-unique evening gown. Fashion meta-analysis was a bit of a hobby, and she had once indulged herself by acquiring a high-end design firm for just this sort of thing. John, on the other hand, had carefully balanced himself right on the edge of propriety, and they attracted some disapproving looks from the wait-staff as they made their way to her favorite table in the back. No-one said anything, though. Money talks, but she had the kind of money they can buy silence. It had been different a year ago, the first time, when she’d invited poor John (who had not yet even been aware of the edge of propriety) out for dinner. They’d been turned away at the door and ended up in the diner down the street, instead. She’d been overdressed, and he’d been mortified, but at least the malts were top notch. John, though, was anything but a quitter-another of his qualities that she appreciated. He’d scoured New York’s thrift stores the next day,.

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