Pete had only removed his jacket, still wearing a simple white tank top under it, but all the biceps, triceps and whatever other -ceps he had suddenly...made for a very different looking man. Pete was already pitching a tent in his pants, laughing silently while he watched Laura wave her puss over Fuzzbutt's head. She brushed her pussy lips with her fingers and flicked the little jewel that dangled from her clitoral hood piercing, but Fuzzy was stuck two inches too short since his cock cage was. Beside the window,Mr and Mrs Sourface and their three odious children are doing their utmostto mimic a family who have just watched a news flash announcing that theHome Secretary has called for the immediate reintroduction of rationing,whilst at the next table the buxom refugee from the halcyon days of glamrock with the asymmetric multicoloured hair and skin-tight black leatherpants resembles a she-bear awakening from hibernation in a salmon farm.Apart from myself, the one individual in the. More

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