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Memory did not want to respond to change, hastily restoring the events of last night.
His gaze slowly turned to his feet, he wanted to throw off the blanket or whatever was there.
You slept on the very edge of the bed, gently hugging me by the shin.
I felt the tenderness of your fingers, a light hold, which was more like caring than the frivolity of a slave in relation to the Lady.
I was not disgusted.
I stayed in your apartment and ordered you to sleep at your feet, like a rag that does not deserve more.
You obeyed for the umpteenth time, not expressing discontent.
I could push you with your foot, wake you up with a slap in the face, or pour a glass of cold water over my head.
It was a mystery to me why a man like you was the best for me.
You were strong, serious, intelligent, and I, as an experienced commander, every time I tried to destroy the wall of your fortress with my whip.
Many gave back, and you remained the fire, which could burn and
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warm the soul.
I threw back the sheets, took off your hand from the legs and covered your lips with a palm.
I waited for you to open your eyes, want to take a deep breath or groan from the buzz, while my free hand will be on your penis.
I knew that in the morning you like strong coffee, but I was going to teach you to my juices during my vacation.
You woke up almost immediately, especially when I began to drive my thumb over the tip of the penis, sometimes slapping him with my palm.
You flinched from surprise, but then quickly calmed down, relaxing your muscles.
Your inquisitive gaze intrigued me, evoking a disturbing feeling.
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– Keep silent, bitch.
I will use you like a bidet.
New hypostasis, slut.
Well lick: I crossed one leg over your body and placed on the face, legs wide apart.
Your hands stretched to my thighs, the tongue immediately penetrated the vagina, as if you had power over me.
Anger surfaced almost immediately.
I began to boil, feeling dissatisfaction, disappointment, but at the same time there was an unspeakable craving for these same touches.
I gave my hips forward and pressed your head to the bed with my pussy.
You could not breathe freely, could not diligently polish my clitoris, only with lips turn me on, trying to take a breath.
You could taste my juices, my scent was right in front of your nose, and only I could decide how long you would be in that position.
“What the hell are your hands doing on my body?” – I did not say, I shouted at the whole apartment, trampling you in the dirt.
– I can punish you: Remember, bitch, you can’t even touch my tongue.
My fingers went down on your dick: I arched in the back and slightly slid down your face, stopping on my chin.
I brought my feet under your head and lifted it up, pressing your lips back into my wet flower.
Your cock throbbed in my palm, hardened with every touch, and I concealed it like a sugar cube on your lips.
The sweetness from your touch seemed to me too cloying, bright and rich.
The lower abdomen was blissful, I could barely move my hips, choosing a more pleasant position.
I liked that you satisfy my morning whims, you serve as a chair, a vibrator between the legs, an aphrodisiac, of which there is no such force in nature.
My moans still broke out of my lips, heavy sighs were heard more clearly with every second.
I closed my eyes, more strongly grabbed your dick, wanting to fully surrender to the moment.
My legs gave way.
I was tense up to the chapel, between the legs flowed so plentifully that if you entered a member, you would have filled up the buzz without any extra shocks.
I diligently smeared your lips, as if you were my canvas, and I am an artist.
In bed, everything was the opposite.
My lips began to bleed, droplets of blood gave a taste of danger: Pain: I wanted to transfer it to you.
Fingers rolled down the trunk of the penis, grabbed the scrotum with such force that you howled, forgetting for a while about the work of the tongue on my pussy. Free nude cam chat.