“Not even close. But here, I made some guacamole.” Christina gently grabbed her husband’s limp cock and guided him into the kitchen. Carla got u... and walked to the table by the front door. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. She gently held the cigarette in her lips, flicked the lighter to life, lit the cigarette, and blue a grey plume of smoke into the air. Her pussy felt tired and abused. It felt good. It felt hurt. She ran her hand between her. He grabbed my hips, stopping me from impaling myself.“What?” I blinked. I so wanted to be a brat right now and just fuck my pussy down his cock.“I don't want to look at your disgusting face,” he said. I saw it in his eyes how much he really cared for me. He insulted me because he knew I needed it, loved it. He didn't love me like Alicia or Melody, or maybe even Pam. Not that sugary love. No, he loved me as his slave. His depraved slut. I was his depraved slut.Oh, Clint was the best brother in. More

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