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I unlocked the door with the key. There was no single pupil in the hallway as I entered in. I assumed that they must be in their room. I started to walk on the stairs to go to their room’s window.As soon as I took my eyes in, My late thirties’ Uncle was laid in the bed on his stomach, and tears were flowing down rapidly from his eyes. I had a peek at Uncle’s ass and it had fresh creepy red lines all over it. Aunty was still in her tight latex suit with the thick whip and the wooden cane placed at the side of the bed. I could assume what uncle went through on his punishment day. Aunty liked her married life under the crack of the whip. Though he was very less error prone since adapting to the slavery, Aunty still punished him ruthlessly on weekly basis to keep him broken.Beyond her senior police inspector service, Aunty never refrained to follow her prepared schedule for things. Aunty got a syringe, and small cylindrical Diazepam ( sleeping dose) bottle from the side drawer. She. It would keep her from accidently moving forward at all and letting the cock slip out of her. The control knob was on the floor by her hand and she turned it a little, starting slow.The machine began to move, sliding the cock almost all the way out and then back in again at a sensual pace. Once Gracy was sure Nicolas was fully hard, she twisted the knob again and the machine began to accelerate, slamming Nicolas' cock into her faster and faster. The machine could thrust many times faster than a human ever could. Even at high speed the angle was good, so with a sultry moan, Gracy twisted the knob to full.Nicolas felt gravity around his cock shift all over the place and finally settle to upsidedown again. A moment later he felt Gracy's hot cunt engulf him again. He wasn't sure what happened next. It felt almost like his cock was moving, and not Gracy as his cock was sheathed in her gooey confines over and over.Gasping and doing his best not to hyperventilate, Nicolas gripped the edges.
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He kept his eyes down and mumbled, “Ok… Jillian.”I leaned closer and waved a French manicured finger in his face. My son knows if I do this, it meant he was about to step over a line, whether he knows it or not. The bratty way he said my name was unmistakable."Just do as I say this instant!" My bitchiness again turning heads backstage and again, I paid them no attention. I needed to be onstage. PART 4 - THE STAR OF THE SHOW While onstage, I began to feel much tipsier than I realized. And it honestly felt as if the stage lights were brighter and hotter. As finished introducing Victor, the fundraiser president, I heard a little tipsy lisp happening in my voice. I kept a big smile as if I hadn’t noticed, remaining by the podium waiting for Victor to join me at the podium before I could leave the stage.Victor did approach the podium in a way, that at the time I didn’t quite understand but paid it no mind, for the most part, because I was feeling a bit tipsy while standing under the.

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