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I could taste the sweet juices from her pussy, the taste of honey and heaven combined she was very wet indeed as the liquid was already running down my chin, she began to grind her hips against my mouth and nose and already she was beginning to moan so I began to lick and nibble at her clit which furthered her moaning and gyrating of her hips I was savouring each taste of her as she began to moan very loudly, loud enough for the whole building to hear but it spurned me on faster -if only I could get my hands free so I could please the miss- my only thoughts were on pleasuring her and giving her a taste of her own medicine but if she knew that I would be in for more esctatical pleasure not that I would complain in the slightest. In a moment of pure chance my hands began to loosen from their restraints with each movement of her hips the blindfold began to slip so I could see where my tongue and mouth was working she was untying the restraints or maybe retying this was my chance to get. He removed his fingers—Ida groaned, ‘No, please don’t go.’—and pulled at her spandex shorts, determined to show her how much he loved her. Her small hand stopped him. ‘Say it.’ Ida demanded playfully into his collar bone. ‘Say this means something.’ That is wasn’t some childhood fantasy or bet that would leave her alone in the morning. ‘Say it.’ Jon lifted her face towards him, his thick fingers curling against her delicate cheekbones. He watched her for a long second before he kissed her. She melted into him, one hand going into his curly brown hair, the other intent on his belt. She pushed him back to get to his belt, dragging his pants and underwear off in one fluid motion. Her hand gripped his shaft, gluing her lips back to his. He tensed before groaning, ‘Ida.’ ‘Say it, Jon.’ ‘Ida, I need you.’ He rolled his hips up. Her hands paused. ‘No, what you said last night.’ Ida looked desperate. ‘He never says it.’ ‘I love you, Ida,’ Jon said between gritted teeth as her hand began to.
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I'd like to meet as many of the people — family and staff — as possible, anyone who had access." Of course," she said. "Right this way." She turned and escorted us past the piano and stopped facing the north wall. It was instantly clear why she had stopped; there was a distinct sense of absence to the space. The hardware that had secured the painting was still in place. There was even a title plaque identifying the work."I'm surprised," I said."How so?" she asked."Your comments suggested that the piece had significant personal value to Mr. Ceres. That being the case, I'm surprised to find it hung in such a public area. I would have expected it to be someplace more intimate. The bedroom or den perhaps, where he could spend more time with it." Very good, Mr. Malcolm," she said. "I'm impressed. You're the first one to question the location of the piece. To answer your question, Mr. Ceres favorite form of relaxation is the piano. The Lady was hung here so that he could play for her." In.

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