It’s worth the clap of the heel of my hand to my glabella to knock some sense into me and feeling the realization course through me that perhaps jus... a little more of the, now refrigerated and the resultant cooling effect of Hazelnut Coffee Creamer would also prevent the singe to the tip of my tongue. Above a certain temperature that burn to my talking muscle can shake a clump or two of dried morning sand right off of my caruncle. I can admit at that time I’d wish anything to dull the pain of. Her dress was tight and low cut, her boobs were as big as Peg's and a lot of the tops were on display, she wore a knee length skirt but it was split almost to her panties if she wore any, and her great legs showed very high through the skirt with each step. I guessed if I put my hand where the top of the slit in her skirt was, my fingers would be on her pussy. Damn she looked hot. She reminded me of her daughter and I was pleased to think this was what I could expect my hot little wife to age. More

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