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“Just because you’re to cum on my tits, doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun, too,” she said as she took his hardness into her warm, wet, wanting mouth.He groaned in pleasure as she inhaled him. I licked my lips as I watched her slowly work her mouth over his cock. I found my fingers at my dampness, without even thinking of touching myself. My nipples were hard enough to cut glass. He pulled his shirt over his head and then settled back on to the barstool he’d been sitting on. I checked the door then came around to their side of the bar and sat on a barstoll a few spots away from where they were enjoying each other, and slowly let my fingers have their way with me.Her moans around his shaft were becoming more and more frequent as she quickened her oral pace up and down his hard shaft. He was doing his best to hold on, but I could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t far from exploding. I’ll admit, a whimper or two did escape my throat as I continued to watch them and finger. . McDonald pressed on his sugary attack. "I can't imagine why some lucky man hasn't snapped you up long ago. I heard about the tragic loss of your husband from Tamera, and naturally I know how you feel." He looked properly saddened at her, and she nodded her head, a pang of memory about Arnold momentarily intruding. "Have you spoken much to Eddie?" he asked."Why, no," Carla said, "After all, Tamera's only been out with him twice. Three times, counting today." At least she knew where she was; well, she didn't have to worry, she guessed, not if Eddie had such a nice father... "Then you don't know much about us McDonalds," he said."Not a thing, I'm afraid." Exactly why I came," he said, beaming. Perfect--perfect... Now to add one more big lie to all the others I've been spreading, so far. "You see, Carla, I'm like you. Alone. I'm a widower." Oh, Mort how sad."He sighed painfully, thinking of the fictitious death of his wife-- and hoping that Agnes would kick the bucket in reality. "Yes,.
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