I love a women’s neck and their inner thighs. Every inch of her neck tasted different. We never exchanged any words.We exchanged our saliva. She was...responding to my every move with her low soft moans and hand scratching my back, trying to grip my silky hair. The aroma of her armpits was driving me crazy. The perfume she had applied when we went out was still strong enough. It was then she spoke with a low tone. “Its been 3 years.” I couldn’t understand what she meant. I asked her “what” while. Hisrigid pecker stretched painfully against the tight material of histrouser leg. He licked his lips, running his hand slowly over his sister’sbody, reveling in the sensation of her delicate, satiny fleshagainst the coarse skin of his palm. “Melanie, have you ever done this before?” he asked softly. She hesitated and then shook her head, biting her lip. “Are you scared?” he said. She smiled tremulously. “Yes, a little,” she said,. More

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