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It never failed, whenever a photographer started screwing one of the models, it caused problems for the photographer, his customers, and his work suffered as a result of it. In the end the model would start to feel used and trash the photographer and his reputation and probably hurt her own reputation in the process. Nope it just wasn't worth it, not as far as I was concerned.There was one exception of course, Diane. Diane was one in a million. I fell in love with her from the moment I saw her. The first time she stepped into the studio my heart pounded so hard I thought it would jump from my chest, from that moment, I knew I would marry her. Never had that happened before, or since. If it ever happened again I guess I would make an exception once again, but somehow I just knew it never would.I had to admit though, right now Cathy's toes pressing against my rapid hardening cock felt pretty damned good, really pretty damned good. She looked at me with a mischievous, little smile.. My body shook in pleasure. He then layed down on the floor, turning me and pulling me down on top of him.Laying on top of him, his thick beautiful cock was like a magnet and i Immediatley started kissing his head and shaft, moving my hand up to stroke him. I felt his big hands on my hips pulling me backwards now. I was confused until I felt his big wet tongue on the base of my tight ball sack, licking it’s way up towards my asshole. It was a strange but wonderful sensation and my hole tighten in response. When he began lapping at my little hole and moaning, I realized that this was for him, what he wanted and what he needed and I eagerly complied. His hands alternating between holding my hips and spreading my ass, his tongue hungrily licked and tried to push its way inside me. I stroked his beautiful, throbbing cock like he had shown me and clear, sticky pre cum flung out onto my fingers and his stomach. I stroked him harder now and grinded my ass back onto his face. He moaned on.
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”“Let me take your plate and glass.” As she reached across the table she intentionally brushed her sweater-covered breast against his shoulder. Then she allowed his dirty cutlery to clatter to the floor. As she picked up the silverware, she made sure he had a good long view of her ass deftly outlined by her skintight yoga pants. “Sorry about that,” she cooed as her left hand now rubbed back and forth across his shoulders. She enjoyed the fact that his body pushed back ever so subtly against her hand. “I had better get you that beer.”“You could stay here and give me a massage, Vickie,” he replied with a chuckle.Their eyes met. She smiled and snickered, “Unfortunately John, that’s not a menu item.” She quickly gathered up his dishes and walked towards the kitchen. He just watched her departing form and for the first time that evening he was not thinking about the farm or his family, but of a different form of redemption.She placed the glass of bitters on the table along with an extra.

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