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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Perhaps it's the musty smell, or the slightly bitter taste on my tongue, the firmness of that delicious ring of muscle, the the gentle resistance as I press harder, the smoothness, the tiny puckered ridges I am kissing so delicately?
Maybe it's the sheer wanton abandon, the hesitant trust, the certain need, the guilty shame of cheeks pried helpfully wide for me?
Or is it the electric current flowing between two previously unconnected bodies as my hard veiny cock is finally trailed across that wet, well tongued little dark button of desire. Nudging, pressing, hinting, asking, telling...
It could be the moans, the jerky bucks of pleasure brought by my forefinger describing the right movements and pressures on a sodden, swollen slick clitoris while my thumb applies a dull, insistent, growing force onto that secret little hole?
Who knows, but I want it.
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