/ Stories / Fantasy
Dasha adored dirt and lust. Her favorite porn videos were those where several men were digging one girl into all holes. How many times did she imagine herself in the place of these poor whores. Her panties were getting wet from excitement, and her head was spinning when she imagined how long and thick hot dicks entered her mouth and ass. As strong muscular arms grab her breasts, pinch her nipples, slap her ass and twirl her body in various poses.
More than once she woke up with the thought ...
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More than once she woke up with the thought ...
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Imagine the summer, the forest, the meadow ... not even a whole glade ...
The grass is soft with soft, for a hundred kilometers around anyone, we are in two ...
Running through the woods, fooling around, ... wallowing in the grass, you have a beautiful white dress ... long with a long slit on the side, ... running ... then I catch you ...
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The grass is soft with soft, for a hundred kilometers around anyone, we are in two ...
Running through the woods, fooling around, ... wallowing in the grass, you have a beautiful white dress ... long with a long slit on the side, ... running ... then I catch you ...
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At home, I habitually locked myself in the bathroom and remembered how I had first given a man to touch her body; and imagined our first wedding night with Azeri: how he unfastened a red belt (our people wear virgin brides), unties the corset on my dress, kisses my neck, lips, removes my bra, tickles my nipples with my tongue; and I see myself in the mirror - only in panties and stockings, and I get excited from it; as Azer says he loves me alone, comes down below, takes off her panties ...
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The South American sun roasted mercilessly, and even a light tunic covering the whole body, not much help from its ruthless rays. In addition, prickly weeds made themselves felt, burning his bare feet. A wave of sickle and vile plant was neutralized and thrown aside. The next weed suffered the same fate. Weeding a carrot was not an easy thing, and we were not taught to do this at the Royal Military Academy. Who could have known that the officers of the Royal Navy who traveled to distant countries for ...
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morning ... the sun shines in my eyes ... everything sings ... decided to fool around a little ...
the dress is long and everything will hide ...
at the bus stop there is nobody ... what if everything opens ...
here is a minibus ... finally to work ...
I sit down ... I cover my knees, they are provocatively sticking out ... there are only men in the marchfruit ...
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the dress is long and everything will hide ...
at the bus stop there is nobody ... what if everything opens ...
here is a minibus ... finally to work ...
I sit down ... I cover my knees, they are provocatively sticking out ... there are only men in the marchfruit ...
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I came to work. But all thoughts revolved exclusively around yesterday's situation and the morning dialogue with his wife. What does all of this mean?
Nastena and I used elements of role-playing games in our sex several times, but these were standard teacher-pupil, pizza delivery man or nurse. But I was aware that past games were initially contrived, in which we both were aware.
The same thing that happened yesterday clearly didn’t look like a “character” game — we were ourselves. No, I ...
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Nastena and I used elements of role-playing games in our sex several times, but these were standard teacher-pupil, pizza delivery man or nurse. But I was aware that past games were initially contrived, in which we both were aware.
The same thing that happened yesterday clearly didn’t look like a “character” game — we were ourselves. No, I ...
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To begin with, I'm a fuck.
There is nothing unusual in my story: I got married right after school, gave birth to a beautiful daughter, and have been living with an unloved husband for 4 years. He controls me completely, arranges phone checks, social networks, and so on. So, until recently, I was sure that my numerous treason was a protest against relentless control, a breath of fresh air for an unlucky woman. But today I clearly understood that this is not so. In my case, cheating is a self ...
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There is nothing unusual in my story: I got married right after school, gave birth to a beautiful daughter, and have been living with an unloved husband for 4 years. He controls me completely, arranges phone checks, social networks, and so on. So, until recently, I was sure that my numerous treason was a protest against relentless control, a breath of fresh air for an unlucky woman. But today I clearly understood that this is not so. In my case, cheating is a self ...
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You unzip from the porch on the wings of a good mood - a gentle sun shines in the sky, birds are chirping around, a wind is rustling in the crowns of trees at the porch, fragrant steam rises from the damp earth. You are smiling, squinting and winking at the sun and sky, birds and wind, grass and ground and trotting to a stop.
Someone is already bored there. And not someone - you know all of them, if not by name, then surely by sight. This is an aunt from the next entrance, which carries somewhere every morning ...
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Someone is already bored there. And not someone - you know all of them, if not by name, then surely by sight. This is an aunt from the next entrance, which carries somewhere every morning ...
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