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(oh wee)" I exclaim, and in seconds we are in a locked room, surrounded by some of the most exquisite pussy ever painted. Pointing at one that I thought was brilliant, my new friend declares it amateurish and unrealistic. "Zere are too many leetle folds - no wooman 'as zat much peenk!" he pontificates. Thrilled with the intellectual debate I have become engaged in, I attempt to prove to him that he is wrong. "Look!" I say, lifting the hem of my skirt and pulling apart the sides of my crotchless panties, "don't I look just like that?" His answer startles me: "oh, non! Yours is - shav-ed, oh la la - but lahk zees one," pointing to another nude who is clearly less excited than our subject snatch. Quickly sensing the problem, I enlighten him by beginning to masturbate. He sees my point, and in a fit of intellectual stimulation, rushes to my aid. Soon, his fingers are all over my spreading snapper. I begin to look a lot like the pussy in the painting. "Steel not zere!" he declares, casting his critical eye back and forth between my dripping sex and the masterpiece. He yanks out his French stick, and plunges it deep inside me. He pumps me like a man lost in the desert with nothing to live on but potato chips suddenly finding a well at an oasis. When he spurts inside me (don't forget to wear your diaphragm in Paris) and pulls out hastily, Brunette he gazes again at my vagina and at the one in the painting. "Madame," he concedes with a bow, "you are correct." From the Louvre, stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries japanese (zhar-dan day twee-le-ree) and onto the Champs Elysees (shons ay-lee-say), remembering to tug your skirt down every few steps - or if necessary, pull your stockings up. Stop for a late lunch at any one of the myriad bistros and cafes along the way. I've found that if you let the surly French waiters know that it's okay to touch your asian breasts, they usually lose the attitude, and you can often get a free refill on the glass Asian Girls of excellent Chardonnay (shar-don-nay). Next, move on to the Arc de Triomphe (arc duh tree-omp). One of the highlights of the Arc is the view from the top, which is often enhanced by the sight of honeymooning lovers embracing by the wall, with the splendors of Paris arrayed below them. On this particular late afternoon, I am lucky enough to find the crowds have thinned, and there is only one couple making out in the corner. Sensing an opportunity for a true Parisian adventure, I approach them cautiously. A handsome man group is French-kissing his lover. To my surprise, I find that the cute little one in the short skirt, with exquisite hair and makeup, is also a man! But I decide to take a chance. Menage a trois? (m'nazh a twa)" I ask. The cutie breaks the kiss and stares at me. He/she reaches out and squeezes my left boob. "Oy, noice job, myte!" he exclaims. I've heard my titties called many things in my day, but "job" is not usually one of them. "Thanks!" I reply. The handsome man stares at me critically, then makes a grab for my crotch. "Kroist, you're a sheila! It's a shiela!" he exclaims in disgust, and the little one says, "Kroiky, them boobs is the ryal thing!" with an air of appreciation. "Git lost, ya stiypid cunt", the real man says, as he plunges his tongue back down the little one's throat. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Alone with the elevator operator on the way back down, I catch him staring at my breasts. My nipples are hard from the cool wind up top. "All right," I smile, and he seems surprised as I slip his hand inside my top. My trip to the Arc de Triomphe is not a complete waste, I think, as I make my way towards my ultimate destination - the Tour Eiffel (toor ee-fell). About 5 minutes into my mind-blowing Oral ride she could feel I was about to cum hard and stopped bobbing her head and moved back, That is when I looked down to her pulling her asian shirt off to Brunette reveal not a black bikini bra but a lingerie-style bra with her nipples exposed and just string as she was rubbing her nipples with drool slowly running down her chin. That wouldn't change. Yep, the tail is always the magic spot. all the way along that tube, that runs all the way up your shaft . . . “Oh baby!” She cried, “Your cock is tearing me in half! I wiped the blood off my thumb. The japanese punishment horse had two horizontal bars that could be pulled out at the top of the contraption, and these were now extended. Lauren was in the third week of her freshman year at the university, and struggling. Also, I still had Asian Girls the Ben Wa balls inside me and I’d never had both the balls and the egg inside group me at the same time. The Sully brothers got a rush of business in our city. Sorry squirt, busy. "There we go." Abby said the cruiser just landed and will bring them up as soon as the new girls unload. “You’ll see,” Kelly said. “Are you okay, Nicole?” I asked, my voice reflecting real concern. 'please' you whisper