Not Andromeda? With a little gasp, I realized the man over whose tweedy shoulder I was peering was none other than the venerable art critic, Benoit Bo...cher. He was speaking to a lithe, lovely woman with dark eyes and an adorable black pixie-cut. I lowered myself off my toes and listened.“Magnifique, Mademoiselle. C’est la différance incarnée. But by your title, I confess I am stumped. You must tell me. Which of the Old Masters inspired this? Titian? Correggio? Rubens, peut-être?”“Alle und. My heart was pounding as I started fucking her face very roughly. "Oh baby, Alice...fuck...fuck my cock. Fuck it, show me what a good cock sucker you are." I kept on fucking her baby face at this pace. She placed one hand underneath my dick and gently squeezed my balls. She continued playing with my balls as I face fucked her. I bobbed her head up and down my shaft. I felt something boiling in my balls. My cock started to throb and pulse, becoming bigger and bigger. I knew I was about to. More

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