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He stood there with his hands around my mom’s waist while he continued to plow her from behind. I could hear his balls slapping against my mom’s pussy (even with the rap music blasting). Her breasts were pushed up against the leather couch… so I didn’t get a good visual of them at first. I thought to myself: “This is even better than the first time.” The room was more illuminated… I could see everything. I boldly decided to stand there in the hallway. I don’t know why. Was it because I act more boldly when I drink? Possibly. I began to rub my little hard-on through my jeans. Maybe a minute or two later, Ryan pulled on my mom’s hair. Her breasts lifted off the coach and Ryan began to grope them [Lucky Bastard!!!]. She turned her head to either look back at Ryan or kiss him when she noticed me standing there in the hallway. I don’t know if she saw me feeling myself. All I know is she screamed and quickly tried to cover up her private parts with her hands. I think she even tried to grab. “Did you play with your cock, thinking about me?”Her lips came toward mine. Closer. Then closer still. The pink, moist tip of her tongue came out. It ran slowly around her slightly parted lips until they glistened in the light. The last inch between us disappeared, and her lips found mine. Her tongue was insistent, worming into my mouth and fighting an intertwining battle with my own. By the time the kiss broke, we were both panting. Her lips came toward mine. Closer. Then closer still. The pink, moist tip of her tongue came out. It ran slowly around her slightly parted lips until they glistened in the light. By the time the kiss broke, we were both panting.“You’re hard right now, Waseem,” she whispered, her hand searching until she confirmed that undeniable fact. “Mmmm, yes. You’re all bigand hard for me.” She took charge. She opened her Kameez, showing me those beautiful tits of hers. Trembling fingers pulled off my T-shirt. Our next kiss was skin to skin, her tits mashing into my.
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‘You know what they say about men with a stiffie having no conscious, well it’s true,’ Peter said. He went back to reading the newest file to cross his desk. He stayed at it till five even though it took three cups of coffee. At five he left the office parking lot on his bike. He rode straight to the consignment shop. What he found there was a nylon comforter and a camp bed sort of thing. The metal bed frame with folding legs was the size of a standard bunk bed. Which turned out to be only a couple of inches narrower than his twin airbed. Peter paid for the comforter and two larger pillows, which he rolled together then secured it using his belt. He managed to tie it onto the frame of the scooter. It was a tight fit but as expected he made it home. Once at the Don Juan, he stored the bike in the basement after removing the battery pack. He lugged the batteries as well as the comforter up to his apartment. When he arrived, he plugged the batteries into the charging station. He also.

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