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Her tongue stud clacked against her teeth as she thrashed beneath me. “Cum in me!”“Gods, yes!” I howled, burying my cock into her. “Pater's cock, yes!”The spurt of cum was powerful. My body convulsed as the jizz rushed out of the depths of my pussy. My cock throbbed. And then the cum burst into her body. I groaned at the first burst of fecund seed splashing into her fertile depths. I groaned, trembling, the ecstasy shooting and washing through my body as the dual pleasure of my orgasms rippled through me.“Yes, yes, yes,” Sophia panted, her green eyes so wide with her excitement. She savored this moment, drinking in the magic of it. “That's it. Flood me. Cum in me. Breed me.”“Yes,” I moaned, stars dancing before my eyes.I kissed Sophia hard, our bodies heaving together. We were both cumming. Her pussy milked my dick, massaging out every blast of cum. Juices flooded out of my cunt. I moaned into her mouth, holding her, savoring her. She was mine. She would be by my side as. Charlie was ... well Charlie. Meera seemed uncomfortable at first until I told her to be the Indian Star that she was. She switched on the smile so effortlessly. Once the photographer had left Meera and Ashley collapsed with laughter. I told Ashley that it would be difficult for any to determine between the two of us, who the Honourable was in the photo. Meera grinned and told me that I would be elevated to Countess or even Duchess in the publicity blurb and that Mr. Chatterdee would make sure that everyone would know who the titled lady was. Despite the fact that Mr. Chatterdee would use my image in his advertising he still presented me with an account for the meal. I wasn't going to argue and he accepted my Visa card with a smile.When we left Meera talked to Chanderpal regarding the best place for sarees. He nodded and ushered us back into the car. He gave instructions to the driver in Hindi. The conversation went on for some time and became a little heated. Meera translated. "The.
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You did this, I rasped at her, not me. Remember that and there still might be some hope for you. I released my grip on her face and she tried to roll away from me towards the stairs. She was still trying to run, still trying to hide, still trying to be the old Bethany. Theres no way out for the old Bethany, I said, walking slowly beside her as she wriggled across the floor through the stark pool of illumination from the construction light, whimpering through the grey tape. Its white halogen glare lit her pathetic attempt to get her shoulders onto the bottom step. I stepped over her and sat on the stairs above her. She looked up at me through her tangled hair and tried to scream words at me again, succeeding only in distorted mmphs and muffled grmphmmphs. The look in her eyes was beautiful to me, her tears and eye liner and blood drawing little lines down her cheeks, underlining her futile struggle. To leave here you have to become the new Bethany. She bunched up in a ball on the.

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