Babette had to move a pile of beachwear so that we could sit down on the sofa and he said, “Babette tells me that she met you on the beach. Are you ...nterested in a job?” I chuckled and told him that Babette hadn’t said anything about a job and that I was just there on holiday. “It’s good money,” he said, “Babette makes a hundred Euros or more easily in a morning just selling slices of watermelon and letting people take photos of her.” I could well believe that because she made eight Euros from. Setting, he rammed himself up inside of her. She squealed with delight. "Yeah, oh yeah." Her legs lifted to him and she began to meet him as he thrust into her. Grunting with the effort, his hips pumped his hard cock in and out of her."Oh yeah, you like that don't you, you slut. Fucking high and mighty bitches. You're all the same. You just can't get enough of me once I start fucking you." Mmmmmm, yes, baby, just one thing though," panted the woman underneath him. Carl felt the ankles of her. More

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