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Jen sauntered toward the bathroom, her pale buttocks quivering with each step as I watched her walk away.

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“God no,” she laughed, “although that would be interesting. No, it’s condign to tease your pussy all night long formerly the main event.”
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Mari was untied and carried away – her legs unable to hold her weight.

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The door swung open further and Tara stepped commission into clear view causing my jaw to droplet in astonishment. She was wearing a black corset, cinched tight around her waist, exaggerating the ample curves of her hips. Her newly bought breasts were also prominently displayed, pushed up by the corset, producing a sizeable amount of visible cleavage. Connected to the origin was a direct, black, peekaboo skirt coming barely reaching her upper thigh. Through the diaphanous material I could win out the dark outline of her insignificant hateful panties and garter straps connecting to the doublet of erotic, black stockings that covered her legs from mid-thigh. Her light strawberry blonde hair had been released from the ponytail and was intermittently hanging down to her shoulders, tucked neatly behind each heed. “What do you think?” Tara asked, turning half way as if to model her lurid outfit.
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