I look up to thank her. This must be terribly difficult for her, but she shows a strength as my own heart starts to break for her. Her body barely 5 foot tall. One points straight out.. Having relieved myself, I wash in the sink. Her skin so perfectly taught that I can count the lobes. I find it’s hard to focus due to my dehydrated state. And my fat knob compresses as she works it past her gag reflex and into her throat. I pick it up. Not the stylized notion of miss matching women tend to do these days
I catch glimpses of her tit mounds under her outreaching arms as she sways to music playing in her own head, while she slathers on the land-o-lakes from a tub. Saundra? The smell on vanilla filling my nostrils as I manage to stand on sort of shaky legs. No need for a bra? I pick it up. Cleaning my skin enough that it doesn’t feel sticky from sex secretions. She has the glow of fresh Jubilant youth about her. Shes putting on a show
There is a matching lace strip on the front of her top. Her clothes are for sure a set. She has the glow of fresh Jubilant youth about her. Sober enough to remember promising a new one.
