Marshallkeeps on writing, occasionally consulting one of the books or journals he?s goton his desk. The tick-tock of the pendulum in the grandfather c...ock on thecorner provides the only sound, aside from his fountain pen, scratching notesin a yellow pad. The ink is blue. Time passes; every so often he lifts his head, looking atme, but he doesn?t otherwise acknowledge me in any other way.? Sometimes, he touches one of my nipples withhis finger; rarely does he touch my pussy, exploring it. Mom was standing in the middle of the kitchen, blouse undone and bare tits resting in the cupped palms of her upturned hands.“They want a kiss goodbye because it’s the last day you can,” she cooed.I put my lunch on the counter and took the two steps to reach those beautiful girls.“I’m going to be really late,” I said, interrupting myself with a mouthful of morning tit.“It won’t matter. Your boss won’t miss you.” Mom’s hands were already rotating my head around her nipple.I pulled off her tit.. More

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