It was predictable, too, that her pussy flamed and creamed with desire. After all, her pussy had no conscience. It didn't give a damn about i****t, it...didn't care that she was engaged to Craig.Moaning, she tried to escape her son's embrace, but he easily overpowered her, pulling her down on the thick, living room carpet. He lay half on top of her, pinning her, and he crammed his tongue into her mouth and cupped her tits, exciting her in so many ways that she felt dizzy.When she caught her hips. I just wouldn't kiss her right afterward.As always, my woman's Neapolitan heritage showed up in her cooking. Early on in our relationship, I tried to be somewhat egalitarian in the kitchen sense, helping out and so forth. Desiree soon disabused me of such rubbish, as she thought of it. In her mind, it was her second most sacred duty to fill my belly, superseded only by a woman's proper service to a man in the bedroom. I suppose that not all Old World traditions die out, even in a modern. More

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