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A Man With A Maid IISquatting, I untied the knots around her slim ankles and then quickly unsnapped the swivel-hooks of the pulleys and deftly lifted her up in my arms, my right arm under her stockinged calves, my left arm around her bare shoulders, and strode to the padded couch. I stared hungrily down at her panting bubbies and the stickied muff between her long, quivering thighs, signs of the fulfillment which my feathering and gamahuching had brought her. And now I was in the driver’s seat, so to speak, for I had not brutally raped her, nor could she claim such indignity. No, aloof and imperious Marion had to admit her own female weakness in this just-concluded bout of nervous excitement. For if she had been frigid, she would never have achieved the shuddering spend to which I had compelled her. And thus her attitude toward me was bound to have significant alteration, which could only be in my own favor. As I carried her towards the couch, she slowly opened her eyes and stared at me, then her face turned a vivid scarlet, and she immediately closed her eyes again, with a faint “Ohh! “I have freed you, as you entreated, my lovely sister-in-law to be,” I told her, “and now I shall take you at your word, that you will no longer resist my desires ...» |
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