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"I'm having a bad day okay. If you still want to help I would greatly appreciate it." I couldn't resist the tears and remembering how Cassandra would have the same problems at times. I shook my head and stepped forward."Yeah I will help you, and not because your pregnant or a woman. Now the first thing we need to determine is whether the TV itself can fit in your car without the box itself." I looked her in the eyes and smiled. I moved down next to the box and her car. And sized things up as best as I can. From the looks of it, I could fit the TV without the box into her front seat, and it would not move until she got home for her boyfriend or whatever to move it for her."Ok, I can get it into your front seat outside of the box. It will be wedged in and will not move until you get home and your boyfriend or husband can move it into your house. It is heavy and something that can't be moved by someone with a weak back. Is that what you want me to do?"She looked me over and said, "Yes. She pushed her pussy towards her face again “put your tongue out slag, go on lick my pussy like you where licking my boyfriends cock, get in there and make me cum bitch!”The woman finally pulled her tongue out and licked towards Frankie clit, but she tried to pull back obviously not liking the taste, but Frankie still holding her head pushed her back towards her clit, this time her tongue snaked out and she started to lick Frankie’s clit, but not good, not like Frankie was used to, she would never make her cum at this rate.Frankie lifted her face up from her pussy and slapped her hard across the cheek, “if you don’t lick better than that I am going to slap you till I can’t slap you no more,” as her hand cracked back across her cheek, leaving a red handprint the woman moved back down to Frankie’s clit and started to lick properly, she had done this before Frankie thought as she finally got into some kind of rhythm she started to flick her tongue backwards and forwards across Frankie’s.
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Cords in his neck strained. His arm stuttered and he looked down—maybe at the magazine, maybe at his seed slopping on the floor, maybe at both. From the stairs, she heard his satisfied sigh.A flutter and shudder, weakness possessed Amy's knees. She held the railing and caught her balance—stuffed her panties into her purse. Still unsteady, she slipped out to the driveway.A trio of anger, jealousy and arousal played a smoky jazz in her head. Anger's solo bass strummed: "he's hiding something from me." Jealousy's alto sax wailed the insecurity blues: "what do the magazine girls have that I haven't got?" Arousal's slow Spanish guitar mocked the others. Surreptitiously watching him approach his own orgasm was intoxicating. Embers beneath her skirt reignited. For the second time, Amy entered the house. "Hello! Hello!" She banged the back door shut. A stop at the sink—she washed her hands with dish soap.From the rec room Dan stepped into the kitchen, his breath more ragged than climbing the.

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