βαθιά πρωκτικό x βαθμολογήθηκε ταινία με μαλλιαρό κινέζικο θεά

My hands--now alabaster--are gently folded on the small bulge of my tummy. I hold a single rose between stiff and cold fingers. You close your eyes and remember a time when those fingers--alive and warm--caressed you, and ran themselves through your hair. The pleats of my grey pants Hardcore are sharp, as are the creases of the pant legs that hide my thin and shapely calves. Not so hidden are my feet--unencumbered by shoes, but clad in the sheer, nude stockings I so loved in life. My shoes, sensible though they may have been, are nestled within the folds of satin beside me--destined to be buried with their owner of a mere asian three days. The cruel joke, so deftly played upon me by death, leaves my feet curled and arched as if frozen in the moment of orgasm. I am barefoot in death, much as I preferred to be in life. You lick your lips again, memories of our lovemaking rushing back to you. Tears well up as you again think of how you will never again feel the press of my body against yours, or experience the beauty of my lazy smile as we bask in the afterglow of wild, animal fucking. You bend low, and drink in my perfume again. Your lips hover above mine, your tongue running along the cold, crimson stiffness that once pleasured you orally--and now destined never to do so again. Bolder now, your hand slips into my blouse to fondle my left tit. Poking and prodding and squeezing as you kiss my face. Unsatisfied, you move lower, and fumble with the button on my pants. I wear nothing beneath the pantyhose; shorn even of my strawberry bush by morticians you realize likely took liberties with me already. Your hand slips underneath the waist of the nylons, and you marvel at the smoothness of my mound. No matter the fucking the morticians may have given me, they at least cleaned me up well. You fingers play for a moment at my lips--one on each side, with your middle finger rubbing at their slightly parted opening. Gently, as you did when I was once alive, your finger plays across my lips, as if knocking on a door. Where once I might have giggled and pushed you in with my own hand, now I lay silent, yet not unwilling. You press, and with slight resistance, my corpse allows the finger entry. A wave of heat washes over you, and Brunette you know that your last opportunity is upon us. Again you drink in the sight of me in my repose. The tragic beauty of my body as it lies in state is a far cry from the almost comedic position my final moments left me in. There I would lie until found, facedown in a pool of my own urine, vomit and blood. My disheveled hair, and broken stiletto heel the silent witnesses to the fatal rush about the house that brought me to a crashing finale. Fear not, dear one, for I was thinking of you before that fateful tumble--but sadly the wetness between my legs post-mortem was made not of my lust, but of the piss that leaked from my cunt when I died. Ironic that for all our experiments with water sports, my biggest gush goes wasted, as I die alone and horney. So I would stay prostrate, my luscious ass in the air as if awaiting penetration, cooling and stiffening and waiting for you. And now here you are, suddenly as lustful as I at the moment of my demise. You slide your finger in and out of my cold, dry cunt, allowing it to caress the velveteen softness of my inner folds, while your thumb gently dances about my clit. You push deeper and harder, the palm of your hand now pressing against my pelvis in a vain attempt to stimulate me; to feel me push my hips back against your hand, yet I am japanese still. Any movement of my body is not of its volition, as you push faster and faster, deeper and deeper inside me. My corpse is swaying to the rhythm of your finger. My head now tapping a staccato beat against the casket, as if against the headboard of a bed. Perhaps that too is appropriate, as this casket is the bed I take my final rest in. Sweat stands out on your body as you pant with your exertions. But she did admit to herself, the new angle made it easier for her to loosen her sphincter japanese to let him in. Without lube of any sort though, each bit of him Brunette she took into her ass felt like her hymen tearing all over again. “Oh, right.” I remarked. And nothing was said when I returned, either.” And my pussy ached for attention as well. This house came my way because the divorce judge had the hots for me . . . I blushed. But rather then be surprised when Master Lighting began to fuck his human bitch the pastor made a suggestion that forever changed Sapphire’s life. For now. The soft cloth on my face and the acrid fumes means chloroform. Her base tan had protected her from the Southern sun. The meal was excellent with a mix of classical cuisine and local products. He once again covered himself with both hands and made sidesteps towards the swing doors of the asian studio on his right. Samantha scowled. Sam cupped her breasts, pulling aside the fabric roughly to bring both perky mounds and pink nipples into view, grasping them with his Hardcore hands, massaging his fingertips into her flesh as she rode him, grinding her clit into his pubic hair. I was awakened by mother shouting at the walls. ”You’re fucking my cunt, you dirty man,” Sherry said to Dad teasing, “I want you to come in me…I’m on the pill. It couldn't hurt my illusion. “And still you look so awfully pretty,” he whispers, stroking the velvet of my dress just at the small of my back. What a combination, but the sexual is a great reliever of mental stress. I looked nerdy.