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“You can change clothes here,” she said. Phil nodded and grabbed his garment bag out of the back. They had ridden in silence for almost 30 minutes, the droning of the radio the only sound in the vehicle. He found a text from Hailey and sent her a reply.Five minutes after he’d entered the plaza, Phil exited wearing a charcoal suit, a crisp white shirt and a blue tie that matched Hailey’s eyes. His hair was short enough that he could comb it out and he no longer looked like a college kid coming home from Spring Break.“I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” Dara said when he resumed his seat in the car and they merged into traffic again. “It just irked me when I saw you. I thought you were trying to play a trick on me. Then I saw you weren’t playing a joke and it irked me further. You’re what, 19 years old?”“I’ll be 20 in two weeks,” Phil said with a laugh. Hailey’s texts had managed to cheer him up. He also admitted to himself that he would have been peeved if his mother had sent him to the. The perfect coordination of the widening of her hips and the swelling of her bottom, with exactly that sharpness and symmetry of curve that he most admired, soft yet firm and smooth. The swelling of the wonderfully rounded cheeks, full enough to press tightly together into the rapidly deepening cleft. The way in which the curving line of that central cleft perfectly echoed the outline of the cheeks on either side. The sharp line of the crease curving under each cheek, still visible in the skin even as she was bending over. The slight indentation in her cleft showing were her anus was still concealed between her cheeks. And the soft folds of delicate flesh merging and disappearing into the still hidden depths between her thighs. And just a soupçon of fine dark hairs reaching back from the exquisite triangle on her mons veneris, feeling their way back, along the soft valley between the delicate folds.The headmaster realized that he was on the verge of paralysis.Familiar as he was with.
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And it was intended for her. Suddenly, Irene panicked. . . ~~~~~~~~~~~ A virgin when she married, Irene didn’t have any complaints with Oliver’s bedroom technique. He’d had several partners and was a gentle teacher, guiding and talking to her about her needs, always striving to ensure that she was satisfied. But, as the years passed, Irene found it strange that her husband would frequently raise the topic of her sexual fulfillment. She insisted that he satisfied her needs. But Oliver did not appear convinced. In fact, he became increasingly doubtful until he reached the stage of being adamant, shaking his head and telling Irene that she wasn’t being entirely truthful. Bemused, Irene would shrug her pretty shoulders, smile sweetly and tell him not to be silly. “I am very happy,” she’d say. That much was certainly true. And, because Oliver was her only lover, she was unable to form any comparisons, good or bad. Also, Irene didn’t have anything like the sexual appetite of her husband.

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