.. that's all the message says.she hold the phone to her ear with her left hand, her index finger on her right hand strokes the lace top of her hold u...s and her skit is lifted.He answers the phone with his usually breezy voice, her whole body spasms, and she feels her cunt run with her juices. They chat and her fingers stroke further up the thigh, her fingers slide inside her moist knickers, her finger starts to circle her firm clit.He asks what she is doing, she tells him to guess. He's reply. "Why, Nat," she teased, "what do you want with little old me?"Nat laughed and swore and caught one of Connie's trim ankles. I watched with a crimson face as she was dragged and wrestled to the bed. Connie was acting so wanton, almost like a whore. Did men like their women to behave like that? I wondered. Suddenly I was angry with my uncle for his adultery, and angry at Connie Gordon, too--perhaps because she was blatantly unashamed of her body and the power it held over members of the opposite. And they liked what they saw. The sexual tension was immediate and palpable as they stared at us. The strong aroma of sex filled the small hallway and we knew we were busted. In fact, my hand was still inside my wife's sexy little panties and my fingers were touching her pussy. A grin worked its way across the girl's face and the guy's jaw fell open. The girl regained her composure and walked slowly past us to another dressing room. The guy followed her, openly admiring my wife's naked ass as. ”“It’s OK,” Kara said.I got up and went into the ‘Indian’ room where Bethany was sitting. I sat down in one of the basket chairs and she came to sit in the one next to me.“What can I do?” I asked.“Will you hug me?” she asked.I held out my arms and she got up and carefully sat in my lap. I put my arms around her and she sagged against me, putting her head on my shoulder. Tears slowly ran down her cheeks.“Do you still love me?” she asked.“I never stopped loving you,” I said.She snuggled close and.
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