"Ungghhhhhhhhhhhh," Was all I could say as I made myself cum.My knees buckled a bit and the man behind me held me up still playing with my big tits."G...od girl," he whispered in my ear as one hand reach down to my wrist preventing me from taking my hands from my panties, "Don't stop just yet."I moaned as I resumed rubbing my wet pussy while the man behind me was grinding his hard cock against my ass though his jeans and I watched through the mirror as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. I. Holy fuck, she's a hottie too. She's wearingthe exact same dress as me but she's in baby blue with me in pink.We almost look like twins. Mistress B takes a picture of the two of usstanding together. My tummy is doing flip flops standing next to thishot girl. OMG. I can't wait to suck her pussy. My hot box is evengetting wet just thinking about her hot slit. I need to control myurges. I really want to go down on her right now. I want to taste hersexy juice.I'll bet Mistress B planned all this.. . uh ... lady. Remember?” Sam’s tempo increased. “It’s hot ... right?”It was hot. Sam had corrupted their sweet and innocent mother. How long had it been going on? Days? Weeks? Tonight, she’d spread her legs for him like it was nothing. “You’ve tamed her, haven’t you?”Sam grunted with the effort. Sweat dripped down his back in little rivulets. “Yeah. It’s my ... uh ... pussy now, I just let Dad ... borrow it sometimes. Right ... Mom?”“Oh goodness, Sammy.” Joyce tossed her head side to side, her. With a long moan, she released a torrent of her cum juice that met my palette bang on. She was squirting into my mouth like a water pistol.I just love it when I make a woman squirt like that. Men – believe me – nothing satisfies a woman that a long squirt. It is not she peeing to release her bladder. It is her love juices getting a deserved release after a long lusty orgasm.Women – you know what I mean. Those of you who have been fortunate to squirt know what I am talking about. Others will.
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She panted, her body sweating and sweating, her ass feeling like it was roasting in the country air. Crack. Crack. What number was it? God, she had
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