,, as you walked away towards the washroom, it would be impossible to resist following you… the first time I would contain myself to just follow you...with my eyes… then for the next one, I would follow you quietly and stand at the washroom door while it remained shut… my horny brain would start piecing together every step of your common ritual… but with only one fixation; the end result... the view where your naked pussy would splendidly appear free and on display for my eyes to feast on…As you. .."Bea looked at me suspiciously. Then she went back to her cabbage."He couldn't have... This isn't some kind of brothel." On the day my brother recruited the army, my father talked to an officer, obviously trying to sell me as a whore." No, impossible," Bea blurted. "Every woman or girl that comes with the army is free to choose what they want to do, but they have to accomplish something. If you look over to that tent over there," she pointed, "you can see those girls who have chosen to do. She also knows my weak spots. When she’s feeling especially frisky, she’ll put on her referee shirt with the zip up front and very short skirt. It’s comfortable and she likes wearing it, usually with panties or shorts if others are around. When she’s looking for some rougher play, she’ll go commando as if daring me to take advantage. She’ll bend over time and again, as if searching for some elusive piece of paper, showing me the round cheeks of her ass and the swollen lips of her freshly shaved. The myriads of strands of leather each sending the sweet paining sensations they carried into my nervous system like a psychedelic drug shooting me to the highest of highs. I was in another world, where I was virtually drowning in pleasure, I knew not who was taking the flogger to my stinging ass but the gift of pain was bringing me nothing but sheer pleasure and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I climaxed. I sucked Omar’s ball into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue and then after doing.
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