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“A perfect snack for an old honey bear like you,” she smiled.Looking back up at Mom, he brought his mouth inches from Erika’s bonne-bouche and began planting gentle kisses.A smile crept across her face. “Ooohh ... That’s a lovely start,” she complemented.“Wow ... when did you become such the gentleman, Mr. Evans ... I never suspected,” chimed in Mom.“Don’t underestimate me, ladies,” retorted Dad, drawing a chuckle from everyone. He then returned his earnest attention to Erika’s sopping labia, delicately licking the ridge of each soft, meaty petal. Erika simply hummed her delight.He finally brought the blade of his tongue to the bottom of her shimmering pink trough and gave it a firm lick, from taint to clit. He made sure to linger on the latter, causing her to shudder and release a small squeal.“Looks like your little button is still pretty sensitive. How about we take things slowly,” he suggested, spreading her dark, pouty labia with his thumbs to reveal more of her hidden pink. Don't tell him you're a Stone Fox. The phrase probably doesn't translate. Anyway, ol' Shiggie's got eyes! He probably knows that not every American woman he meets is gonna look like you!"I happily attended to my lasagna while my two new roomies got better acquainted. Some of the other patrons of the restaurant looked over curiously from time-to-time, while an animated discussion took place in Japanese, in an Italian restaurant, in an east-coast American city.Amy ordered a second glass of red wine. I told them to bring the bottle and two more glasses.The wine was from Chile.After our late lunch we went looking for the house that Mitchell had lined up for us. True to his word, he'd found a first-rate place -- a huge white house -- quite elderly -- but with a pleasant front and back yard, a big old-fashioned porch around the front and one side, and a porch swing looking out on the street from a considerable elevation.Inside, the place was great. Recently redecorated, the downstairs had.
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