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She said Ok.When I started masturbating I saw my maasi’s white panties and bra in the bucket which were obviously kept for washing.Her panties were soiled with her juices and had some pussy hair on them.I started smelling them and started masturbating.They had a nice erotic smell and I began tasting them.Suddenly the toilet door opened and my maasi was standing there in front of me.My heart gave a skip,her dirty panties and bra in my hand near my face and I realized that by mistake I left the bathroom door open.She was stunned to see me in that position.I immediately said sorry maasi but she was coming towards me and I was shit scared that she would tell the entire thing to my parents.I said that this would never happen again but by that time she had come very near to me and was now holding my dick which was shaved by me before going to my maasi’s place.I was surprised to see this.She was now guiding me to her room.Once we reached there she told me to undress her.I was scared and said. I know your body the way you know mine. We need no guide to one another, no demands or pleas to help us discover what signals every nerve towards inescapable bliss. You match my motion, leaning down. Your hair becomes a beautiful and thick fragrant curtain cocooning our faces, framing us. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, all I see is you. A lone finger traces across my cheek, pure electricity traveling down to my jawline, before your lips envelope me in a hungry kiss. Even with the almost furious grinding, the kiss is slow, tongues achingly searching, so patient and thorough. You've always said that tasting me is one of your favorite things. That you can still taste me many hours later, an amalgamation of our flavors. I've never told you that it's the same for me. I can taste you where senses can't. I feel you in places with no name. I feel you in the same way the earth felt when being shaped. Absolute. Consumed by beauty, the earth quaking, and lightning storms. Unstoppable.
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“Break!” he said after they’d stored an especially heavy chair which had taken the two of them. “We can leave the other furniture down there. Summer people don’t object to seeing it; they just won’t buy it.”“You want to start on arranging the display space?”“The energy of youth! I want to have a glass of lemonade and sit in the kitchen for ten minutes. Join me?”“Please.” Jan had never been in Mr. Fisher’s actual apartment. The storage room didn’t count. He opened the door into a living room and led her across it to the kitchen. He took a pitcher out of the refrigerator and poured them each a glass. “Delicious,” she said. This glass gave her much more pleasure than she had ever had from a glass of lemonade before. She was more excited than she’d ever been by a beer or a glass of spiked punch. Her only regret was that she was wearing jeans and an old blouse -- fit for the dirty work, but not for being entertained in the home of the most sophisticated man in town.“Out of a can. One.

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