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The only time he ever hurt someone else wasn't his fault-, the Sensei should have known to never take his eyes off of someone even when bowing. It was beautiful to behold, though, split second timing, the three stooges couldn't have done it better. I don't know who was more embarassed, the Sensei, or Steetch. Luckly I was the only witness, as we were in the Dojo's office. I almost missed it, too, because I was tending to an ailing plant in the corner. It was a bananna bush more brown than green. it needed more than just watering, so I gave it a sprinkle of minerals from my vial of magical dust. Not really magical that is just what I call the ground up rocks that Freaky provides me. He says it is a mixture of every mineral he can find, in the same proportions as occured in the sedaments of the Cretaceous Period, when ten ton dinosaurs roamed the earth, eating vegetation or other dinosaurs who were vegetarians. Pretty potent stuff! Of course, there was half again as much oxygen in the. My hot pussy loves your fucking juggs! Fuck! I'm cumming! I'm cumminnggg!” Fuck, I almost came myself. It was hard not to stroke as I watched them both rub their giant mounds together. Serena's nipples were large, taking up the whole face of the breasts. Jaime teased her by nibbling along the edges of the aerola. Then she used her tongue to circle closer and closer to the dark caps of her nipples. Serena shivered this time. She called out to me. “Fuck these asscheeks.” I moved to behind Serena. My hard cock nestled perfectly between her ass mounds. She moaned as I thrusted my dripping cock between her cheeks. Both Jaime and Serena grinded their tits against each other. Wonderful mounds mashed together. Cum drenched nipples flicking against each other. The sight made my cock pound those lucious cheeks even harder. Serena knew what to do next. “Mmm, fuck those big booty asscheeks. Yeah, I love feeling that hard cock just glide in between my asscheeks. C'mon you cheek fucking stud. Fuck.
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Cynicism had quelled her desire. The meeting with the Iranian ambassador’s secretary was especially painful. He was a hardliner and thought the administration was insulting him by providing a female contact. It was all she could do not to slap some sense into him. Half the damn world was women and the idiot thought them unworthy of making decisions. He spent most of the meeting refusing to speak English, though he had attended Stanford, and dropping veiled insults to her gender. She let her anger get the best of her when he demanded water. There was a pitcher right in front of him and he expected her to pour it. He didn’t expect it any more. He left in a huff without his glass of water. She had been teetering on resigning for weeks. Leave the world to its own devices and concentrate on her own damaged life. Her marriage had suffered greatly. It was still hanging on, more due to Byron, her husband. Infinitely patient, he would tolerate her necessary absences and sooth her when.

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