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Thank god I'dblocked off the last 2 hours of the day so I could escape early! All Iwanted now was a few hours of pampering before David's arrival for theweekend, and I was so looking forward to a bath and a foot massage. Ofcourse, knowing that my husband would be waiting for me, and thenwaiting on me (literally hand and foot!) reminded me what a lucky ladyI am.I see David's car on the street as I turn into my driveway, and whileI'm not exactly crestfallen - we do have a lovely weekend planned -I'm a little sorry that I wasn't going to have Tami all to myself fora few hours. But thinking about what's ahead for us, I feel a tinglein my pelvis that assuages the temporary disappointment, and myspirits begin to lift again.What I wasn't expecting was the image that greets me upon the entry tomy home. I was hoping to find Tami properly attired in her formalserving uniform, but what I see is... well, not that. It was theslurping that first piqued my curiosity, and an instant later, I. You felt so hot to the touch. I instantly felt a flush of heat radiate through me, ending between my legs. “I don’t think I can stand” My legs feeling weak. Your hands moved up to hold my breast. They felt bigger as you touched them, as if they filled with lust. My breathing quickened. My breasts were bigger than your hands so you had more then enough to squeeze, and squeeze you did. Arr! the pleasure of finally feeling you touch me made me wet so very wet. Our kiss’s got deeper and deeper. Sliding me towards the back room along the wall. My hands found the buttons of your shirt and I slowly unbutton you, dragging my hand down your chest. As I did you moved your hand between my legs, making my wetness seep through my thong. You closed the door behind us, still never letting me be more than an inch away from you at anytime. “Ah! Your not getting away this time” you said with such wanting. You.
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He finished emptying his bladder in the sink, then, he got a straw and dropped it into the glass. He bound down the basement steps feeling forty years younger. When he presented his special “lunch” to Cherie, she was kneeling on top of the workbench. “I’m not really hungry now, and I need your help,” she said rather seriously. Mr. Brooks was disappointed that she wasn’t interested in his “special lunch”, but he was all ears. “I have an itch, and I need you to scratch it,” she explained, looking down at her crotch. “It’s under my dress,” she added, like she needed to give directions. The old man decided to play along. He lifted up her dress, and she opened her knees wide. “It’s between my legs,” she directed him. He teasingly scratched her inner thighs lightly, pretending to accommodate her. “No, it’s closer to my pee hole,” she suggested. His fingers moved slowly toward her slick bald pussy, and he could feel her legs twitching with anticipation. She raised her slender body up a.

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