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His name was Dale, this handsome and smiling gay gym jock. Quite thepotent, boyfriend image in the blond-haired rascal's fantasy mind. Theromantic saviour 'she' needed to be nice to.The Fag-Hag felt pretty sure those two would hit it off. An ancientwitchy-on-steroids lady, checking out their respective, astrology chartsand other occult mumbo-jumbo to make sure; that her new-age match-makingwould take proper root.And the ambushed teen-age tart in the nylons and sandals beginsfluttering his. We mixed vodka with water and drank it. It was a small bottle which we had finished in half an hour. Clock had crossed 12 by now and so we decided that we should start the sex now. The alcohol had given us the courage to have a wonderful night.Lucky came closer to me and we started smooching. The hair of his mustaches were coming in my mouth, but the passion his kissing overcame that. We both had our dicks hard now; and Parth was taking care of them. Parth had unzipped our pants and was sucking. "This shack doesn't look like it'll hold up to a storm..." I said whilestanding next to her."It will. Trust me," she said looking up at me briefly. "We got a couplehours before the storm will make landfall. I hope those assholes will atleast provide a couple blankets so we don't freeze."I laughed. "You think they're really going to give us a blanket afterwhat you did?"She shrugged and closed the window. It was starting to get a bit chillyand we were going to want to have as much heat saved up. She slouched up to the display, gazing at the ***********ions and...“Got milk?” she read, staring at the panties.She grabbed them, studying at the dairy cow pattern on them. She frowned, her fingers sliding over the letters. A tingle rippled through her. Thoughts of buying a new bra were abandoned.Why do I need a bra? she thought to herself.Panties in hand, she marched up to the cashier. The tingle coursed through her body the entire time. The cashier felt it, too. They went through the motions.
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