Again her skin tingled with its own life. There should not have been a cup on the drain board. She had just arrived yesterday and she had no food or d...ink after she arrived. ‘Was the mug in which I poured my coffee on the drain board when I picked it up?’ she wondered. A mixture of dread and hope led Clara to the trash bin. The only thing in it was a large can of chicken broth. Clara felt faint. She returned to the porch and sat in her rocker, her mind in such turmoil that she had a difficult. The sight of me so turned on, covered in his cum, had got blood rushing back to Marks cock. I could feel his giant head now at the entrance to my cunt, and whimpered. My body had entirely betrayed the rational thoughts of my brain. “Fucking hell. Absolutely dripping! She’s absolutely gagging for it.” Mark said as he felt up and down my pussy, pinching my clit. I was ashamed at how badly I wanted him; I had to force myself from pushing back onto his dick. He rubbed my round, firm buttocks almost. More

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