"I turned from the balcony. My wife writhed on the bed, her hands rubbing between her thighs. Her excitement brushed my nose, a tart musk. "You mean, ...ou want me to satiate your frustrated desires, dear wife?" She left us both in need."My wife was a royal beauty, a Zeutchian princess. Her blonde hair spilled across the bed, her breasts large and round, brimming with fertile delights. It was often joked that princesses were the most important export of Zeutch. The nation was fractured into a. He tackled the milk and utensils while Aunt Frankie mopped up the eggs and flour.While he was cleaning, Trevor looked over and saw his aunt squatting down, scooping a gooey mess of eggs off the floor. Her hair had a frosting of white and her skirt was a little dusty with flour, too, but he didn't notice that. Instead, he saw that as she stooped down, her skirt rode up her legs even more. They were incredible legs, fantastic legs, a model's legs. And he wasn't quite sure, but it looked as if she. More

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