While she turned down the stove with one hand, the other reached behind her to hold onto his half hard prick. “This is not a sausage. This is sal...mi. There’s quite a difference.” She answered as her hand moved to the butter dish. Michelle scooped out a generous amount and reached back to smear it over his prick and he reached for some butter and began to smear it in her butt crack. His other hand went down to her pussy, he was pleased to find it wet and slippery, her pussy lips were puffy. He capped the bottle and stumbled back to bed, where his dreams were anything but restful.Craig’s new morning routine, if perverse, was at least straightforward. He tried not to be aware of the warmth of the liquid-filled bottle in his pocket as he drove to work. He had bigger worries. Cora’s project was in his lap, beneath his dignity but still requiring a production that would satisfy her most critical review. Someone in his office was obviously part of the website trap, in order to be. More

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