We could talk about funny little things that only we knew. He could look at the pretty girls. I wouldn’t care for I’d do the same with the boys, a...d we’d pretend they passed, unnoticed. And so that’s me, George. I’m pretty and I’m horrible. I tell truths and the opposite and I connive like a bitch. I have room for lust but none for pride. What have I done to be proud of? I don’t pretend to have shame. I can talk like this because tomorrow you won’t remember a thing. He gazed at the tuft between. I could enjoy it more now that I could see that I was not hurting her. I started to work up a rhythm; gently sliding in and out of her very tight pussy; her tight grip on my cock started to bring me off; I could feel that I was going to cum. I started to moan a little myself and my breathing became more laboured as I neared the critical point. And then I was there I could hold back no longer and I started to shoot my hot sperm into this little girl. I stayed with my torso pushed up against. More

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