“Inger, what are you doing about breakfasts? I can’t imagine they have «filmjölk» here. They certainly don’t where I live.”“We use plain ...ogurt. It’s close, though it’s a bit thicker than fil and has a slightly different taste.”When we had finished eating, Inger served ice cream.“Steve, will you have some coffee with us? And perhaps a little brandy?” Håkan asked.“Of course,” I answered.Katt gave me an evil look and whined, “Dad!”“Katt, you’ll have plenty of time with Steve. You already. I can't help it... She groaned out her shameful submission to the fiery sensations flicking through her unwillingly ravished body. Her toes curled tightly against the softness of the bedspread as she was bucked up and down, fucked like the helpless slave she was by the great, driving cock up inside her warmly quivering cunt. Dinsdale pressed his fingers into the firm flesh of her buttocks and spread their bouncing cheeks farther apart, opening them obscenely and teasing the puckered little hole. More

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