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I ran off quickly and found a horse water trough! A long one and emptied it, I dragged it back to tanya and turned it upside down and told we to stand on it and bend over the phantom. She did and I then got the conditioner out of my pocket and began to lube her pussy up with it. Her moans, her grunts! Wow... She was so wet, her pussy was dripping already but I continued to Work more and more fingers into her until I was at my thumb knuckle. This was always the hardest part for her! This is where she always struggles when I stretch her beyond this point. I always manage it and once I do it better but it really hurts her! Without warning I slammed my fist into her pussy as hard as I can as as it passes in my fist punched into her cervix! She lunges forward in shock and pain and screams out in pain! I know she loves it and although she screams she never wants me to stop! You see, Tanya likes to feel helpless and like she's being abused! I slide my fist out and straight back in again and. A hot masculine tongue on her clit and his fingers fucking her pussy, she must be on the edge. Amy could barely take it anymore. She stopped abruptly and without thinking too much, hooked her thumbs in the waistband and stripped off both her panties and skirt. A soft breeze caressed her bare pussy and made her tremble. The act of being half naked outdoors and where she shouldn’t be added thrill. Instead of letting her clothes lie in the dirt, she picked them up. With a deep breath she walked to the far end of the garage and hung her clothes on the fence. Her heart banging inside her chest, she stripped of her top and placed it on her skirt.With a hard swallow and hammering heart, naked but for her thin strappy sandals, Amy walked away from her clothes and toward the driveway end of the garage. She looked toward the sidewalk where a streetlight had come on illuminating her position. The chances were slim, but any dog walker or bike rider would be able to easily see her pale form.
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It was certainly a place to be tortured in, incarcerated in, go mad in. Its gaping maw of a front door was obviously designed never to let people escape, a traitors gate, a mouth of hell. When the house had been built he was sure gangs of gnarled hunchbacks would have been installed on the roof to hurl down bucketful’s of noxious fluids onto the heads of visitors below. It was that kind of place. ‘I don’t like walking around this spooky old house,’ he owned-up after a while. ‘What would you rather do?’ Archie asked. ‘Maybe we should go out in the sunshine,’ he replied lamely. It may have been his nervous hesitance that encouraged Archie to hold his hand, which he loved. When fingertips brushed his own and took a grip a breath caught in his chest. There were things about such a gesture that sometimes made his bones melt. Holding hands was so intimate and said so many things that were difficult to put into words. He gloried in it and it made him feel special. Archie lead him on down.

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