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After 15 minutes, our friendly “sandwich” fell apart, and we collapsed into exhaustion, everyone fell asleep.
For me, after a night of fighting, alcohol and sex, the morning meeting was hard.
But I still did not know what was waiting for me.

You, probably, are already waiting for the continuation of the affair with a lover, of

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an insane time filled with the happiness of constant possession, without fear, without guilt.
about the nights spent together and most importantly about how we wake up together in the morning and we are well and bright.
But no, it’s not like that at all.
My husband left and I constantly think about him, I don’t even think, but I’m waiting.
All the time, every minute.
It’s like a countdown timer: one hour – it will not arrive soon, the day – you have to wait another, two – maybe tomorrow it will be here.
I can not with him and can not live without him.
He is a part of me and I don’t want anything without this part.
Sometimes I think of a lover, but now he is so immeasurably far.
I want my husband to come, and his eyes shine towards me, so that I open the door and immediately understand – I miss you.
Strong.
I want to hug tightly, right at the door, right like that – without undressing, I want to kiss deeply and penetratingly.
So that his feeling towards me would be blocked by the fatigue of the road, work, worries, problems.
I want him to forget everything in my arms, and he would feel better.
I hear the clanging of the keys, the rustling of the bags, I open the door, looking for his eyes.

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He does not look at me, he takes off his shoes, unbuttons his jacket.
I’m waiting.
puts the briefcase, takes off his hat.
I’m waiting.
Finally, he crosses the threshold and I stretch my arms to him, twist his neck, pull me to myself, press my lips to his lips, close my eyes and feel dizziness.
Rub your cheek against his cheek.
the skin is so soft a little prickly and smell.
the smell of his skin that barely penetrates the foreign dirt of the road, his smell.
His hands hang like whips, he lets me hug him.
Not for long.
For a long time it is not enough.
() He puts his palms on my stomach and slightly dismisses me.
I try not to show it, but I can’t stand it and say with a smile: “You are like always! He’s tired.”
I see.
Exhausted physically and mentally.
He washes, eats, sleeps.
I’m waiting.
He is at home and this is important.
I look at him half asleep, lying on the kitchen couch, and thawing.
It seems he came to his senses.
His eyes become blurred, he takes my hand and draws me to him, kisses the stomach, licks it with the tip of the tongue, pulls out mysterious figures.
I feel the cool traces of his saliva and already thirst when he squeezes into me with hot lips.
He stroked my chest.
hands are warm, almost hot, dry and slightly rough.
Gently but firmly squeezes her.
For another second, pride and resentment fight in me, but now I run my fingers through his hair and hold me close.
Tenderness falls not on me in waves, beats and pulsates in the lungs, there is not enough air.
everything is intertwined, and I cannot discern where his breath is, where his arms are, where his skin is.
I lay on the kitchen table spread out, torn by desire, ripped open by his hands, torn to pieces and sobbing.
He covers me with his weight and with force breaks into me.
His dick is so hot, hard, powerful gives me incomparable pleasure.
Because of the stiff and cold countertops, I feel pain and I know that then there will be traces on my back, but this excites even more.
I clasp his body with my legs and hands, and with all my strength I press against him, throwing my head back. Milf porn online.

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