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McMasters told everyone she had been away at finishing school, and Kate was forbidden to talk. She knew her twang marked her as a poor nomad from the west, not the innocent young miss who’d been in a convent in France that he purported. Her beloved boots had been taken away, hard shoes left in their place, and her feet ached. All around the room McMaster’s men circulated, watching her like red tailed hawks circling a poor field mouse. ‘You are truly his daughter?’ The voice was thickly accented in familiar tones, but she did not recognize the owner. He was short, swarthy, eying her suspiciously over the rim of his glass. She may not have been raised in society, but she knew rudeness on sight, and like so many others in the evening, she merely turned away from him and his attempt to ingratiate himself into her ‘father’s’ life through the supposed innocent. She felt so alone she wanted to cry. Kate trusted Isabella, but it occurred to her she’d never trusted anyone with her life. Balls shuttered, breasts bounced fully.Dick, its curving fatness quivered and head became sensitive.Leaving my girth within her for a moment, savoring with little strokes, my banana gliding on a pavine of its own flesh.I withdrew slowly, my head exiting her flesh wound, a little river of cum water and mixed juices spilling in a pool on the table, her belly swathed in breast milk.My dick quivered, its head dwarfed by its prodigious thickness trembled, spasmed, hinging at the base near my balls and pussy sopped hair.“That was good,” I said“Better than,” said she“Let me get a drink,” I said motioning and moving my lips to her nipples.“Uh uh,” kiss me better,” shaking headI kissed her lips“No, where your rifle just shot me.”Savoring her lippy smell, I thought, ‘why not’Lowered to her bristling vagina.Tickled her belly with kisses, stroking its crystal ball.And found her cunt, hair parted, and inserted my tongue with a few luscious kisses and licks.A great mix of tangy tart juice, sweet.
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