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I was wondering if we could have this chat alone.” Adam replied, playing with his fingers. “Girl trouble.” Jeff snickered, and Phil joined him in his grin. “Thinkin’ the same thing, man. brunette Thinkin’ the blowjob same thing.” Phil replied, bumping Jeff’s fist. That said, Phil thought it went a step deeper. Adam realized he was treating girls badly and wanted to run his situation by Phil. Maybe get some advice on how to be a better person. How could anyone be mad at that? Adam was trying to be a better person. Maybe he even wanted advice on how to court Nicole… and if that were the case, maybe Phil could give some… less-than-stellar advice. Just to protect Nicole from his type, of course. “Sure, buddy, no problem.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, everyone, skedaddle.” He saw that only about four people were still in the room anyway, but they all took the hint and left. On the way out, he saw Megan waving to Adam. Adam waved back. Maybe it was her he was still courting. “Some girl, huh? Is she the girl you’re lookin’ at?” He then realized this was his opportunity to make sure Adam was, in fact, being a good egg and pressed further. “What’s your story with her anyway, weren’t you two together not too long ago? Y’know, after the whole… ‘in a classroom’ thing?” “It’s a long and complicated story.” Adam replied, not taking his eyes away from where she was. “That’s what they all say.” Phil replied, punching Adam in the shoulder playfully before getting up to close the door, allowing them some privacy. “So, what do you wanna ask?” “Phil…” Adam began, only continuing once the door was shut. “I don’t have girl trouble.” “Alright, cool, then school stuff?” Phil pressed. “I lied. I don’t need advice.” The words made Phil nervous all over again. He tried to keep up any semblance of a poker face, but the silence in the room clearly gave away his levels of discomfort. He chuckled in discomfort, trying to cumshot play it off as confusion. “So then... Why did you ask to be alone with me? Are you taking over the council or something?” “I want to talk to you about Nicole.” Adam asserted. This better not have been what Phil was thinking it was. “What do you mean?” He asked, his tone now no longer playing games. You could be fucking this magic brunette cock if you change your mind today,” she teases as scratches my balls, then squeezes them. Holding as much of my cum in my mouth as I could, I kissed her on the lips. She was sleeping soundly; her chest rising and falling evenly, her breaths punctuated by cute, little whistles of contentment. I love my husband and you blackmailed me this time. I’ll get it.”, said Aunt Sheen. “Yes My Master.” “Sure, I did it a few days ago on my bed, remember?” World? Logan quickly follows suit with my left leg so that my feet are both attached to cumshot some recessed rings in the floor. By listening to their music, it feels as if they have been in the music scene for years and years. Admit it because I don’t blowjob want to bring Dana out and then have to tell her there was a mistake. I could not keep up, so I concentrated on Andrea and whomever she was talking with. Her juices gushed out of her, that spicy flood inundating my mouth. The light bulb went off, Evan popped up from the dining room table, jogging towards the stairs. So I thought it might be fun to be his first."

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You fingers itch to touch them, to pinch them, and to caress my pliant breasts. You lick you lips, passion enflamed, as you continue to drink in the sight of my corpse. My hands--now alabaster--are gently folded on the small bulge of my tummy. I hold a single rose between stiff and cold fingers. You close your eyes and remember a time when those fingers--alive and warm--caressed you, and ran themselves through your hair. The pleats of my grey pants are sharp, as are the creases of the pant legs that hide my thin and shapely calves. brunette Not so hidden are my feet--unencumbered by shoes, but clad in the sheer, nude stockings I so loved in life. My shoes, sensible though they may have been, are nestled within the folds of satin beside me--destined to be buried with their owner of a mere three days. The cruel joke, so deftly played upon me by death, leaves my feet curled and arched as if cumshot frozen in the moment of orgasm. I am barefoot in death, much as I preferred to be in life. You lick your lips again, memories of our lovemaking rushing back to you. Tears well up as you again think of how you will never again feel the press of my body against yours, or experience the beauty of my lazy smile as we bask in the afterglow of wild, animal fucking. You bend low, and drink in my perfume again. Your lips hover above mine, your tongue running along the blowjob cold, crimson stiffness that once pleasured you orally--and now destined never to do so again. Bolder now, your hand slips into my blouse to fondle my left tit. Poking and prodding and squeezing as you kiss my face. Unsatisfied, you move lower, and fumble with the button on my pants. I wear nothing beneath the pantyhose; shorn even of my strawberry bush by morticians you realize likely took liberties with me already. Your hand slips underneath the waist of the nylons, and you marvel at the smoothness of my mound. No matter the fucking the morticians may have given me, they at least cleaned me up well. You fingers play for a moment at my lips--one on each side, with your middle finger rubbing at their slightly parted opening. Gently, as you did when I was once alive, your finger plays across my lips, as if knocking on a door. Where once I might have giggled and pushed you in with my own hand, now I lay silent, yet not unwilling. You press, and with slight resistance, my corpse allows the finger entry. A wave of heat washes over you, and you know that your last opportunity is upon us. Again you drink in the sight of me in my repose. The tragic beauty of my body as it lies in state is a far cry from the almost comedic position my final moments left me in. There I would lie until found, facedown in a pool of my own urine, vomit and blood. My disheveled hair, and broken stiletto heel the silent witnesses to the fatal rush about the house that brought me to a crashing finale. Fear not, dear one, for I was thinking of you before that fateful tumble--but sadly the wetness between my legs post-mortem was made not of my lust, but of the piss that leaked from my cunt when I died. Ironic that for all our experiments with water sports, my biggest gush goes wasted, as I die alone and horney. So I would stay prostrate, my luscious ass in the air as if awaiting penetration, cooling and stiffening and waiting for you. And now here you are, suddenly as lustful as I at the moment of my demise. You slide your finger in and out of my cold, dry cunt, allowing it to caress the velveteen softness of my inner folds, while your thumb gently dances about my clit. You push deeper and harder, the palm of your hand now pressing against my pelvis in a vain attempt to stimulate me; to feel me push my hips back against your hand, yet I am still. Any movement of my body is not of its volition, as you push faster and faster, deeper and deeper inside me. My corpse is swaying to the rhythm of your finger. My head now tapping a staccato beat against the casket, as if against the headboard of a bed. Perhaps that too is appropriate, as this casket is the bed I take my final rest in. At this position and angle, Nelson had better leverage to thrust into Max’s butt. We had a great time dancing and drinking throughout the night. This was all so incredible. Then they gathered her into their arms and began to kiss and caress her. He came to attention in front of her desk. blowjob The three I purchased were all extremely sheer. "Just nothing you know get a girl and you'll know" she smiled. It was hard to get it in as she was not wet at all. I removed my fingers and once again brunette lapped up her excess juice. All eyes turned to me. My answer was cumshot easy, "You've all seen me as wild and crazy as I've ever been in my life.


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