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I saw one guy lick her slit from behind. His buddies called him lucky.On the last trip to my end of the bar, Mom got down and said, “Take me home stud and put me to bed.”A woman helped me get Mom into her skirt and blouse, telling me to carry her underwear. She said it would be a waste of time and effort to put them on her and then have me take them off at home.On the way out a guy said, “I’ll give you fifty bucks for her panties.”I was just about to say “Okay” when another guy said, “I’ll give you a hundred.” He thrust the money in my hand and pulled Mom’s panties out of my fingers. The first guy shoved his money into my hand and took Mom’s bra. Hey, I just made a hundred and fifty dollars selling her used underwear.One of the guys helped me get Mom into the car and told me to drive carefully…that I didn’t need to get pulled over. The whole time he helped Mom into the car he held onto one of her breasts tightly and his other hand was finger fucking her wet pussy. Hell, I didn’t care. "Where did you get this?" Spike panted, her thighs starting to tremble "It’s amazing"."My Dad made it" replied Allie trying to pull Spike's nipples off.Dad, looking a bit sheepish, but with an erection sprouting upwards "But it's the first time it's had two girls riding it. You both look fabulous".Allie was very close to cumming, rubbing her breasts in circles against Spike's back, and licking her neck "So far he has been sitting behind me each time to check it out - his cock all squashed up between my cheeks. But this is perfect -can you feel what the leather bumps are doing to your cunt"?Spike suddenly had an idea, looking at Dad "Will you make me one - perhaps with motors into vibrate the cuntal piece".“Perhaps – if you’re very good”.Spike clambered off the sex-swing, her insides gone all wobbly from the intense masturbation and fell into Dan's arms.He supported her around the waist; one hand flat against her stomach, fingers pointing downwards ready to continue the cuntal.
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She ended up getting, among other things, two sets of blocks and tackle, a sheet of plywood cut in half, door hinges, doweling of various diameters, screw hooks, screw eyes, and a healthy amount of nylon rope. The sheets of plywood she had to use the rope to strap across the roof, and then started to head back to her house, moving slowly. As she cruised the long strip of stores that was Highway Ninety-nine, the heart of Hazel Dell, she caught sight of a store that triggered something in her head. It was an automotive story whose large sign read, ‘Peterson’s Parts’. She pulled carefully in. It was just after ten in the morning, and the store had just opened. She walked in, heard the tinkling of a bell above the door, and felt a twinge of nostalgia, wanting her old store back. In the front of the store were empty cashier stands, and toward the back, two men were talking to each other. One looked remarkably like Henry, the other’s man, considerably older. He held one hand inward, to his.

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