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She looked a lot younger, sitting like that next to the fireplace.John walked towards her in a daze with only the small white towel wrapped around him... Before he made his presence known, she put her book down and stretched. Her arms reached for the ceiling, and her back arched like a limber gymnast. Her breasts pushed hard against her blouse, and the buttons strained to contain the bounty she possessed. As she lowered her arms, she saw me. "Honey, aren't you going to put some clothes on?" Rose. It never is. As the noise stopped, the old man sighed. One more bump on the wall and he rolled over. As usual, Michael stroked himself under his sweatpants as he listened to them having sex. Then, as the house grew still, he heard her whisper something he'd never heard her say before."Just a little more." It was a tender plea. The old man spoke not a word. Michael's stroking intensified at the sound of her voice, so much in need and want. "Please," she said again. "Just a little more."The old. More

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