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I heard him talk but couldn’t hear the words. The sense of touch was overloaded, leaving the others short of attention. I couldn’t breathe as he pushed more of his cock into me, then pulled out, then pushed further. I knew I was crying out but could hear nothing, and knew that the aroma of sex- that sweet pungent smell that had awakened my arousal with him and Hani- was starting to fill the room too, but I couldn’t smell. I could only feel, but I felt completely: the crown of his cockhead, the veins and spine of his shaft: I felt every part of every inch as it pressed against my tight walls, moving deeper in before pulling out, greased by my lubrication but no less stretched by his thick mass. My body adjusted and I looked at him, meeting his predatory gaze. His pubes tickled the swollen skin of my labia as he thrust his entire penis into me. I felt physically gutted, but satisfied and fed in the sickest way. It had been four years, and there was pain with such a large tool. A bond seemed to be forming between us and while at the moment I didm'tknow were it would go or indeed where I might want it to lead, I didwant to become friends with him.The bedroom door opened and Mark walked out, he had chosen to wear aplaid skirt in brown tones and paired it with a cream coloured blouse.The blouse had rows of vertical lace down the bodice, the large collartied into a bow at the front while the full length sleeves were fastenedat the wrist with three buttons. His legs were also bare apart from theplain white socks he wore. On his feet, he wore brown ladies brogues."How do I look?" he asked as he twirled around, his skirt lifed toreveal a flash of white lace."Almost a better option than breakfast," I answered."Well make up your mind," he said, "there's not time for both."I picked up my bag thus settling that question and we made our waydownstairs. Breakfast was set out on the terrace and by the time we gotthere it was fairly crowded. I spotted Clarissa sitting.
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