When Judy was around, or Rachel was, or when I was alone in my house, I would carefully remove it from the velvet garment bag, walk around my bedroom ...n it, posing in front of the one mirror I shared with Rachel. Rachel tried it on, but it didn't fit her, to my sisterly delight. It fit me. Just me. The thought came to me like this: I was never going to be Joan Sutherland, Amanita Galli-Curci, Madame Shuman-Heink, or any other opera singer. I couldn't do that. I could never come close. I had. I resisted the urge to unleash my lust for as long as I could, delivering a long, deep thrusting to a recurring shake of her breasts and drawing out sharp moans.The way Katie’s boobs bounced and rolled as they shook under my pressure, the excitement of her tantalising audio, the firmness off her thighs and the tightness of her insides was hypnotising our bodies moved together.I could not restrain myself any longer, the desire to ravish her and see her boobs race wildly over her took over. I. More

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