Itook a few shots and plenty close-ups. I left back to my father’s office andloaded the photos on a CD-r andprinted a close-up. Then, Back to myroom...and then “masturbation at its fullglory.” After an hour and a half the alarmclock in my mother’s room went off. Igot up and walked to the bathroommaking noise. A couple of minuteslater she knocked on the door. “T? Isthat you?” That’s how she called me since I was a little kid. “Yes mom. I came in a few minutesago. We left school ten minutes. When she came out, everyone that she knew in her old lineof work had quietly refused to acknowledge that she existed. Just likeher family. And without those contacts, passing -or not passing- as shedid, the drudgery of piecework was the only source of income that shecould find.And yet, for all that, she knew that she'd never go back, even if shesomehow could. Her blood pressure was down, her ulcers hadn't acted up inweeks, and she hadn't had a drop of alcohol in months. Her life might notbe. She could see the whole bottom of her breasts and could almost see the girl's nipples. Now the girl was massaging April's stomach and her hands were traveling down close to the beginning of April's vaginal hair. April could hear her wetness making a squishing sound as the girl approached her vaginal area. She was rhythmically massaging towards the junction of April's hips, where her legs met her torso. And she was driving April wild. April wanted to thrust up to meet the girl's hands, she. “I know she's hot, and I know she likes our attention, but please... let’s take it easy. Make sure she stays comfortable with us.” Just then Sandy returned with the ball. She stood at the top of the stairs, her shirt still very wet, and held the ball at her side, affording the guys a tantalizing look. Her long legs nicely accentuated the package displayed in the wet shirt. Sandy went slowly down the steps, like she was making an entrance down a grand staircase. When her feet reached the bottom,.
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