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His name was Bob, and he took her to see the movie as he had promised, holding her hand through the entire show.They walked home, hand in hand, after the show. Halfway to her house, he stopped and turned down a side street."Where are we going?" she had asked."I live on this block," he told her. "I didn't think you would mind if we stopped at my house for a bite to eat. I'll walk you home later. I promise."Sure," she said. "I guess it'll be okay." She trusted this boy fully, and she went with. She was holding my mouth on her neck ,moving her head around guiding me to her sensitive spots . My hard cock was still inside her extremely wet pussy when I whispered we should go to the bedroom. “I want to lick your sweet pussy “I whispered as I moved my hand back to her bald mound.”I love this ” I said “most people do “she said turning around and kissing me “sweeter than honeysuckle wine “. In the bedroom she dropped her skirt and lay flat on the bed holding her lips open “it’s all yours. She could also handle people like Jake’s girlfriend, who happened to step out in front of her at just that moment. Kelly and Jake were so painfully perfect for one another, because they were the two biggest clichés in the known universe. She was the petite, busty blonde cheerleader whose hair was never out of place. Who says the cliché is just a literary device, Cypress thought, coming to a halt. No, Kelly and Jake were living proof that art mimicked life. Or something to that effect. ‘Watch. Just when I was barely a centimetre from her lower lips I pulled my hand away and stopped kissing her. Her eyes, her deep dark eyes, were a mixture of confusion and pleading for more, but I didn’t intend on leaving her unsatisfied for long. I shuffled down her bed and pushed her skirt up around her waist. Then I began laying soft kisses on her legs, starting near her knees then quickly moving north. I could hear her breathing increase and she began to fidget, no knowledge of the pleasure she.
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