"Call me tomorrow," she said. Olga didn't hear her.They had not danced. She had not even drunk much. She just drowned, sucked in by his incredible eye.... His embrace felt sweet and natural. Her hard nipples pressed into his chest as if they belonged there — just as her trembling lips belonged on his, her tongue inside his mouth, her belly against his growing cock. There had been no hesitation, no reserve. She knew it was love, even though she had never felt it before.She didn't remember leaving. . . the flapping sounds came quicker and . . . Sig drove his rock-hard cock deep into Brynn and he spasmed and his hips jerked and Brynn saw the man's balls quake and felt his shaft twitch and he felt the 60-something year old man ejaculating in him; cumming inside of him; inseminating him; consummating their queer and passionate mating.And all the while, Brynn's existence was in constant vibrations of internal orgasms, greater than anything he had known, and enough to cause his mind to lose. More

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