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I couldn't manage without her help. Well, Liz's help along with Mom's and Dad's help.I've tried to learn from Will and Kyle as I grew up. I took up football the year after Kyle started. He has been my football mentor. I think I learned well from my brother. He helped me make our varsity team when I was a ninth grader. I took Kyle's place when Kyle hurt his knee half way through that season. We went the whole way to the AAA state championship game. We won with more than a little help from me. I was named the MVP for the game.Kyle helped me with a lot more than football. I had a normal teen's curiosity about girls and sex. Will's after school trysts with his then-girlfriend, now wife Abby started my preoccupation with sex. Kyle's afternoons with his girlfriends further reinforced my preoccupation.I ended up losing my cherry with a cheerleader three years older than me one Saturday evening, probably with more than a little assist from my older brother. He screwed another cheerleader in. I am SO wet!” I lifted her nightgown, pushing it up her legs. She lifted her hips to let it slide past her hips, wide curvaceous hips with a dark patch of pubic hair between her widening legs. I knelt there between her legs and kissed my way up her thighs. She slid to the edge of the chair, her legs spreading and her breath quickening. With every kiss she moaned a soft low breathy moan until my lips were on her mound and then on her pussy lips. She stroked my long red hair as I kissed, the taste of my lipstick mixing with her light sweet taste and the wetness that was beginning to flow from her. I began to tongue her more forcefully, drinking in her taste … her scent … the soft moans growing louder … her tiny button of a clit swelling so I could suck it and massage it with my tongue. “Oh god! You ARE a woman! Oh my sweet GOD!” she cried as her body shook beneath my tongue. I held her hips and kept my tongue pressing against her clit while she came until she finally pushed me away..
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He enjoyed the fact that her long golden hair was pinned up in a severe, strict bun. He imagined undoing it, her locks cascading, tickling the tops of her lily white breasts which would be popping over a tightly tied corset. Christian Lawson-Smith rearranged his restrictive trousers as his cock sprang to life. Naomi Lawson-Smith didn’t care what tempting, risqué lingerie Saskia may, or may not, be wearing, nor was she the least bit interested in her choice of footwear or hairstyle. It was very much the thought of what was underneath that left a tell-tale wet patch through the silk of her knickers, through her pencil skirt and glistened on the black leather chair she sat on. It was all about the curves, the swell of her bouncing tits as she made animated hand movements, the cinched womanly waist, the roundness of her ass, the smooth skin of her legs. Christian Lawson-Smith became lost in a frantic, erotic daydream. Saskia stood at the foot of his bed, a seductive striptease, layers of.

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