The coffee cup made a clanking sound when Miranda picked it up. It had an abstract art deco design and a powder blue handle. ‘Good coffee,’ Mirand... grinned. She was unaware of one crucial detail. No one had started in on their coffee as of yet. Meanwhile, Miranda was drowning her coffee with multiple packets of sugar and multiple packets of cream. She was slurping it down like an uncivilized cretin. It was like being under a spotlight. There were three pairs of eyes on Miranda. Jackson watched. He kissed her lips, softly at first, then more demanding. He reached his hands down below her butt, picked her up, laid her on the bed, and laid on top of her. His hands ran up her shirt and up and down her back. "Oh baby," he said, lifting up a little to pull her shirt off. She reached up, and pulled his shirt up over his head and unbuttoned his jeans. He reached down and started kissing her again. She slowly moved the zipper down on his pants, making him wait. When it was finally down, she. He bade Tink get into her bunk and he secured her well into place with thick leather straps that he’d found beneath his bunk. Tink shivered in anticipation. Hook then said to her, “I see you like your nipples handled Lightning Bug.” “Let’s oblige ye.” From a pocket, Hook produced two lengths of linen fishing line and tied one loosely to each nipple so that it just grabbed the gold bar. The other end of each line he tied well overhead to an oaken beam, snuggling the lines so that her nipples. I couldn't even eat my morning yogurt without making my panties a little bit wet. A few months after Greg's special birthday blowjob, Greg and I went to a party and got hammered. Greg is normally very polite, but when he drinks he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. And when I get drunk, have a hard time keeping my clothes on. So after several hours at the party, we were in an uber home, my low rise mini skirt hiked up and Greg toying with my clit underneath the jacket over my waist.
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