He liked to wind me up, and get me hot in public, knowing I couldn't do anything about it gave him pleasure. Today was no exception. He leaned close t... me, and whispered into my ear. "I can still taste your cunt on my tongue from this morning, baby you taste good" he mumbled, practically nibbling my ear. I squirmed in my seat trying not to let him get to me, crossing my legs over in an attempt to halt the tingling in my pussy. My attempt failed miserabley, I was horny as hell and my black lace. He felt likelaughing, because she was such a little thing and didn’tlook dangerous at all, but he was still thinking therewas going to be some kind of trick. Someone would comeand hold him, or she had a hidden weapon of some kind.So he moved away from her.As he moved against the wall, she walked a littlefaster. She was bouncing on the springy padding, and herbreasts bounced on her chest. He tried to move faster,too, but he found it hard because his feet sank into thepadding. It was like. Thing". Then she buried her toes deep inside his mouth. Way back to the opening of his throat. He gagged and a thick coating of spit, ran over her foot and fell in a puddle on the carpeting beneath him. Monica kicked his face off of her foot and yelled. "Disgusting pig!!!" She stood now towering over John who was kneeling before her. She dug her shoeless sole into the puddle of spit and told John to place his head on the floor. He obeyed. Her foot was slick and wet with his puke on it when she. He barked “Take off your blouse” She got up, looked seductively in the direction of Ron and started unbuttoning her blouse. With each button more and more of her delicious cleavage started to show. She heard Ron panting. But she pretended it wasn’t Ron, she pretended there were 50 men all around her, watching her. 50 handsome, rich, powerful men following her every movement. Her pussy was getting so wet. She ripped off the remaining button of her blouse and flung it at Ron. Ron couldn’t.
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Ah, if Fix ever came within his reach, what a settling of accounts there would be!After his first depression, Passepartout became calmer, and began to
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