Daisy Marie - Girls Home Alone 29 - Scene 2

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She let the finger drift lower and found herself incredibly moist. She spread her legs to get better access.Directly in front of her the web-camera by the computer was adjusted by an invisible hand to point directly towards her sex. Capturing every moment of her fingers rhythmic thrusts into her well spread pussy. Transmitting every detail of her masturbation.Oblivious of the live broadcast from her masturbation Ronja continued to draw her body closer to the sweet line that would draw her over the edge. She let the fingers trace circles within her sex and her hips rocked from built up sexual desire. With her left hand she was playing with her clit and it took every effort she had not to moan aloud. Still the web-camera caught the sound of her panting, even some of the subtle sound of her fingers sliding in her wetness. Finally Ronja bit her lips to contain the sound as her finger did draw her over the edge. Her legs trembled as she felt the waves of orgasm pass her body. It felt so. She was confused. There was no time for her to think rationally. The dogstarted thrusting and the vulva sensation was strangely pleasantand stimulating to her. With one hand supporting her body, shereached between her legs and accidently touched her clitoris. Herlegs became taunt and her hips started undulating involuntarily. Her hip started to thrust back in rhythm to the dog’s motionand moans started to escape from her lips. What was this strangesensation that she was experiencing? Suddenly the dog stopped andspurted something into her. Her hip motion continued as the suckingvagina latched onto the spewing cock. Maud’s head started to buzz as her body became rigid and hervagina started to spasm uncontrollably. She felt the dog’s cockexpand as her orgasm subsided. She felt her balance going andattempted to grab the shower curtain to avoid falling over.Unfortunately, the curtain held but the curtain rod didn’t. So shefell to her knees and hands. She was on.
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. bread ... muffins? Whatever it was, it’s burned to hell and another waste of the groceries I just bought. Walking into the kitchen, I’m greeted by a pile of dishes in the sink. Plates, cups, roasting tins, and the obvious baking pans soaking with burn marks. And there’s my husband sitting at the table, eating a bowl of Lucky Charms. Sometimes it’s like I married a fucking child. With the stress of coming home to this and being bombarded with instructions and meetings all day today, I’m about to snap. I stare at my husband John in disbelief. He’s looked up from his bowl and milk has started dribbling down his chin. That’s it, I’ve had it. “You’re a little shit, you know that?!” The words are out of my mouth before my brain registers them. John stops chewing, full spoon midway to his mouth. He looks at me like he hasn’t heard what I said. “What did you say?” he asks. Apparently the ape didn’t hear me. I look him dead in the eyes and slowly mouth, enunciating every syllable, “You’re a.

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