Sometimes a family trait misses a generation and that's true in our house. Both my sister and I are night owls while our parents are usually in bed by ten. Many years ago, they converted the basement into their bedroom so that they could retire early and get some sleep.
Jon looked back at the trio and Sally had put her hands behind her back and he could swear she was unclipping her bra strap; yes she was, what the fuck was she doing.
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Posted:
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Posted:
It all seemed so natural at the time but of course there was nothing natural about me thrusting between my sister's thighs. Near enough to reach out and touch was my best friend Neil who was doing the same thing but between his sister's thighs. To make it all the more complicated, my sister was Neil girlfriend and Neil's sister was mine.
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Posted:
Little, who is he calling little, there's nothing little about me, my boobs, my pride and joy are 34D. Then I heard myself reply.
"My name's Wendy," I said.
"Hello Wendy," said the younger guy, his eyes on my bust. There's nothing unusual about guys looking at my bust, they have been doing it every since they got past a B cup.
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Posted:
I'm lucky enough to come from a family that was rich with old money. My father still works in the city but my mother just works for charitable causes. Just after my seventeenth birthday my favourite great Aunt died. I was very sad, for I can remember spending many a hot sunny day at her beach cottage.