I remembered that my legs had not been shaved in ages and that my longing pussy was rarely smooth. “Natalia,” oh God. “Mr. Mitro,” I tried to...sound mature as he turned his back and walked farther into his home. His ass looked so good in those jeans. “Please, call me Aleksandr,” I sighed as I heard his voice and quickly dropped my bag onto the floor and hung up my jacket over his. His flat was pretty big, with a big lounge and kitchen, the entire place smelt sweetly of him. Mr. Mitro’s –. It was an oil painting in reds and browns. Even the flesh of the models was more red than pink. They were posed one inside the other, the woman with her back to the man, in his arms, she holding on tight to his legs. "That's nice," said Nick. "I like that." Want something to drink?" asked Susan. She watched the surfer roam slowly through the livingroom. His long dark body and bleached hair reminded her of herbrother, Charley."No," said Nick, coming to his senses. "I'm not really thirsty." I've. More

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