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I sat at the living room not believing what happened over the last 20 minutes. Soon her husband came home and we had a nice little chat. She greeted him and looked at like nothing ever happened.But the thing was I was still not finished I was this sex animal and I wanted to fuck her again. So under the pretext of washing my cup I went into the kitchen. She was washing the plates or something (I din’t pay attention because I had other things in mind). I grabbed her ass and put my hand over. He pointed to the ad and said, "Lene, that's you. Isn't it?" I know that I was blushing. I could feel the blood flowing to my cheeks as my whole body started to tremble. Once I got myself under control and was able to catch my breath, I denied everything! Wouldn't you? I insisted that it was someone that looked like me. I tried to go on the offensive by demanding to know how he would even think that I would do something like that. I demanded, "What kind of woman do you think your brother. “That’s right, I’m gonna fuck you the same way you fuck my daughter.”It made no sense to me since I only knew about having sex with girls. The anatomy just couldn’t work. “But I don’t have a cunt!” I exclaimed.He stepped over to me chuckling and ran his hand down to my butt. “Oh yes you do, guys definitely have a cunt, right HERE!” he said as his finger slipped between the cheeks of my bottom and pressed against the most private hole of my body. A bizarre tingle coursed through my body and my. Her body felt like Jell-O, mind wandering towards the medicine cabinet, stocked with pills, toothpaste, and liquid liner, beige bottle. ‘So, what do I owe the pleasure Glory?’ ‘I wanted to see how the short story was going? Have you written anything yet?’ Amanda hesitated, heart pulsing, stomach doing back flips. She was to sick to hear Glory’s lecture on creativity. In all fairness, Glory Jacobson wasn’t Shakespeare. ‘I haven’t written anything,’ she confessed, closing her eyes, teeth.
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