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I walked into class on my first day looking like a wild creature caught in the glaring headlights of a truck. My white skin a huge contrast to the freckled tan faces of my new classmates. My accent strange to the ears of those used to an Australian twang. I settled in fast, made friends, fought of the advances of every boy in class. They had all grown up together, fresh meat was rare and with my city clothes and reckless attitude I guess I was seen as wild and exciting. It was Gretal that caught my attention though. She was everything I could never be. Blond, blue eyed, tan and busty in stark contrast to my jet black hair , soulful brown eyes and petite figure. She was no dumb blond though, her mind excited me, her perspective on life was so enthusiastic I felt a new excitement for it myself. I didn't know what it was that I felt for her. I just knew I wanted to be around her so very much. We lived in each others pockets. My father used to joke that along with his new position. Ive always found you hot, she suddenly admitted. As thrilled as I was by this confession, I was also confused. But I thought you were straight. She shook her head. Bi-curious. This brought a smile to my lips. Really? She nodded. Or she probably would have had she not instead pulled me in for a long, passionate kiss. Our tongues danced around in each others mouths for what felt like hours before she finally pulled away. As great as the unexpected kiss was, the arousal that now coursed through my veins convinced me to escalate things. Or at least try. Are you also bestiality-curious? I asked. My friend seemed surprised by the question, but still took the time to consider it. After a few seconds of deliberation, she shrugged. Why not? Another smile appeared on my lips. Eager to get started, I got to my feet and took a seat upon the floor. Assuming I had some sort of plan, my friend came to sit at my side. I assume the large feline felt left out, because he too hopped off the couch and.
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Her frown of concentration; her concave cheeks; her sliding lips; herbobbing head; the slurping sounds and grunts she made; the drool of hersaliva down the column of his cock; the brush of her velvet-soft lips aroundthe shaft of his penis; the occasional nudge of her chin against his groinor thigh; her ardent dedication to the task at hand; the floral aroma of herperfume; the swarm of sensations in his loins, his, cock, and his balls; theincrease of blood flow to his genitals; the gasps of her breath and his; thepounding of his heart--these and a host of other observations, emotions, andsensations conspired to catapult the artist into a state of bliss that wouldseize him as resolutely and as finally as the grip of death or the raptureof a saint, and Miles felt his thighs quake as something--perhaps his verysoul--seemed to pull itself out, through his prick. He gasped, holding hisbreath and closing his eyes tightly as his spirit seemed to uncoil withinhim.Abruptly, realizing that.

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