Lover From Bollywood India

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You will say. “One, thank you Sir. This cunt is sorry Sir.” Understand?” Jen was sure she was going to leave a puddle once this spanking was over. “Yes Sir.” Grayson slid his long finger between the folds of her pussy. He smirked, and softly patted her open pussy with the paddle. Jen tensed and waited. Grayson waited just a second long enough and she relaxed her muscles. He quickly brought the paddle down on her tender flesh, hitting her clit and top of her mound. “OWWWWWWWW FUCK!!!” Jen took a deep breath. “One, thank you Sir. This cunt is sorry Sir.” Grayson moved the paddle lower and hit her pussy again, slightly harder. “What are you sorry for?” The slap hit her pussy right over her cunt hole. The pain/pleasure was so intense for Jen that she felt her orgasm building quickly. “This slut is sorry for disobeying and thinking she knows what’s good for her.” The sentence came out in a series of moans and pants, but her Master got the gist of it. When she didn’t count he. She followed Kennedy into the restaurant with a mulish expression. Hopefully, Kennedy would stop playing with the toy now that they were in a public space.The waiter, a dark-skinned young man with striking looks, showed them to their table and placed the menus in front of them. To Dawn's relief, Kennedy left the toy well alone when they were deciding on what to eat."I'll have the spaghetti aglio olio with smoked duck," Kennedy said when the waiter returned "And a glass of orange juice to go with it."She closed her menu and handed it back with a smile. Dawn hummed in her throat, looking down at the food listed."I'll have the -urk!"The vibrator had started a slow pulsing deep inside Dawn's ass. Dawn kicked Kennedy's shin but the older girl just grinned."The what, Miss?" The waiter asked, looking puzzled.-brrrrrBRRRRRRRRRRRRR BRRRRRR BRRRRRR RBRRRR- went the toy merrily, kicking into high gear! Dawn's mouth fell open."Yes, what are you going to order, babe?" Kennedy asked as if there was.
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’ He smiled, ‘You are becoming quite a young lady. The boys must be starting to bother you.’ Isabella blushed. She had no great opinion of her looks, but it was true that the young men in the town had lately started to notice her and sometimes tried to engage her in small talk. ‘Oh no uncle, she stammered. ‘I was reading.’ She indicated the armchair where she had been curled reading Ovid’s poems of banishment. ‘You are becoming quite a sophisticated young woman,’ said Anton. ‘Perhaps it would not be inappropriate to offer you a little glass of wine?’ He removed the package from under his arm and unwrapped a dark, squat bottle. ‘This is a Portuguese Black Muscat, just off the ship,’ he said. ‘I am sure that a small glass would help you sleep.’ ‘Thank you uncle’ replied Isabella, who had recently started to educate herself about wines, discovering that the pale communion and table wines she had taken since she was a child were but pale imitations of the real thing. She found two glasses.

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