I'll give you to the count of thirty and raise this door. Sarah, you go out the back and cover to the right in case someone climbs the fence back ther.... Count of thirty, now go.I began counting to thirty slowly as I nearly ran to the front door, grabbed the MP5, and ran to the back door. Sarah was right there looking out as I hopped out and went to the left. I went through the gate expecting to see someone. At the count of twenty eight I was at the right edge of the house and garage. All the. His buttocks, smooth and sweating and tight, clamp down on her chest, squashing her down on the bench; then slide from her bosom to drag her blouse down from her tits. On them, he leaves a smear of oil and sweat and the impression of burning heat. His cock drops to her cleavage, his balls grazing the swelling curves of each full, meaty breast. Each breast rises and falls as panting waves wash through her thorax. She is not wearing a bra! On a whim, to complete the risqué theme for the evening,. More

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