She pulled it off and crawled on top of me. She straddled my waist and leaned over me, her perfect tits obscured my view. I cupped them as her fingert...ps traced my hair behind my ears. "Ooh," I whined, her gently touches felt so powerful. "Ooh yes Samantha," she cried out as I fondled her and rubbed her tight little nipples. She was purring like a kitten. I loved hearing her moan and sigh at the pleasure I was giving her. She stroked my hair in rhythm to my groping. I squeezed her breasts. And this is when Pavel heard his frightened cries. Pavel had rarely done a brave thing in his life. He was not liked for a reason, for he tended to be sour of disposition, slow to contribute and, when all is told, often mean of heart. He was the kind of young man (but a boy so recently) who would rather stamp on a snail than watch its slow passage. Who would shoot at birds with his home-made catapult in preference to hearing them singing in the branches. Who would kick at a cat as soon as look. More

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