Jane spoke up and said to Leigh, "We have been talking about whathappened yesterday and we have some questions for Danielle. It isobvious she is tire... and has been through some sort of ordeal but we arevery concerned about our dear Linda and we insist that we be allowed toask our questions." This was said politely but clearly with theintention that "No" was not acceptable. Rick backed up his wife'sstatement with a glare at Danielle and the crossing of his arm.Leigh quickly understood their. ." No Jill. It was later, afterwards. Around the time you began to visit me." "Oh dear God..." Please don't cry Jill ... please ... listen, oh do listen."She touched my shoulder and I flinched away from her, but no further than the end of the sofa. I would listen."Did she ever know I was ... seeing you?" No, I never told her, and I swore Edie to secrecy. Will you allow me to say why?" Y ... yes." Thank you. Perhaps it's because I can be very selfish, perhaps it was more than that. Of course it. He inserts his fingers again and finds my g-spot and works me into a shaking, quivering, squirting orgasm that racks my whole body with trembling shudders. He sucks up my cum and brings it to my mouth and releases it so that I can taste the sweet nectar for myself and then he returns to suck up the rest of my juices before sliding the head of his cock into my still quivering pussy. He slides the head back and forth against my clit easing himself deeper and deeper inside of me. “How do you. "I just French kissed my son under the mistletoe." This time, instead of swigging the cold wine, I sipped at it. I tried to compose myself. My heart had slowed from full gallop to a spirited trot, and I could no longer hear surf pounding in my ears. As much as I hated to admit it, I had liked kissing my son."Are you mad at me?" he asked. His expression was hangdog. I didn't answer, not trusting what answer would come out. Instead, I sipped more of the wine. What I felt, was that I had come.
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