Me With My Elder Son

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I know what her voices sound like in real life, while talking on the phone to her sister, say, or speaking to her husband. But how do I know she is married? And how do I know she has a sister?I've only seen flashes of her skin under her dress or from her blouse ripping suddenly open, yet I know exactly what every inch of skin looks like. I’m not just talking about her face or her breasts. I can visualize her hard, dark nipples, her slender neck, the butterfly of her shoulder blades. I know where her freckles are. I’ve seen her birthmarks. I’m obsessed with the vividly colored tattoos peeking out beneath her clothes, different every time I see her and in different places, as if they were alive: a dragon, a dove, fire, water, lightning. Most of her flesh I’ve caressed only through her clothes, and hurriedly, because when we fuck it’s always fast, and always public. Yet I know what she feels like naked, her heavy breasts, her slender waist and her tight ass, cupped in my grasping hands.. It lay hard and throbbing up against the naked pink flesh of her pussy."Yes," she mumbled into his mouth, as he flexed his hips ever so minutely, rubbing the thick base of his pulsing cock on the throbbing vibrant shaft of her fully hardened clitoris.Phyllis felt the tingling tickle of his extremely hairy chest against the sensitive buds of her erect little nipples, and she rotated them through a short, repeated arc, back and forth across his chest, enjoying the sensation it produced in her. It was particularly tantalizing. Before she had begun this affair with her husband's boss, she hadn't known that her breasts were so sensitive and that they could be stimulated so easily.Hugo's oversized hands roamed caressingly up and down her back, paying special attention to the round, protruding globes of her pliantly soft and smooth buttocks as he cupped them up, then pinched and massaged them, making ridges of her silky flesh ooze like white butter through his strong fingers. After a few.
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.." He turned to the girl, a mousy little thing with thick glasses and a downturned, thin mouth. "What'd you say your name was, sweetie?" Eleanor," she said, gazing at Westy's imposingly broad shoulders, and dropping her eyes to take in his swimmer's chest, down to his impossibly narrow waist."Yeah. Meet Eleanor. Elly, this is my roomie, Sean. Say goodbye to Sean, Elly, he was just leaving." He gave me a significant look."Sure," I said. "I was just leaving." I stared back at Westy, trying to let him know I was not happy about this situation. "But I'm planning on coming back in about an hour," I said."An hour's plenty of time for us," said Westy, holding on to poor Eleanor. She probably thought he was being protective. I thought he was being possessive. I picked up the letter I was trying to write and left them alone, heading up to Spencer's room.When I got to the sixth floor, the music pumping out of rooms up and down the hall was nearly painful. Country was competing with blue- eyed.

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