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His name is Pierre (who'd have guessed?). I would have been happy to have him climb the railings at the corner of the top platform and brace himself against the girders, so that I can blow him from a standing position, but Pierre seems to want a bit of privacy. I can respect that. We head out onto the open staircases that extend from the ground to the top of the Eiffel Tower. It's a wonderful compromise between Pierre's desire for privacy and my own, well, slightly more exhibitionist nature. There - the secret's out! Pierre's lovely big coq (kok) is free of its coop in no time. It's in my mouth faster than a hardon in Big Tits a whorehouse. He manages to pull MILF my white dress up to my neck. He buries his face in my "beeg fawkeen teets", as he called them, and his fingers in my very damp "moof". This man is a stud! I blow and I suck and I blow some more. His prick bangs against the back of my throat time and again. "Did you know that in English, this is called Frenching?" I ask, smiling at the irony, dragging my mouth off his manhood. But he doesn't want to talk. He places his hand on the back of my head and Hardcore jams it back down onto his waving penis. It seems a troop of teenaged English schoolboys have decided to forego the expense of the lift and climb the stairs, because we soon have an audience clad in gray trousers and maroon jackets, commenting on our Cumshots performance in charming cockney accents. Pierre is shocked at first, but he chooses not to stop just then. Within seconds, however, he shoots a large load of cum down my open throat. I swallow every single drop - I want this to be the perfect French blowjob. Pierre is gone in seconds, and for one glorious Big Dick moment I think about blowing all these young lads. But no, I don't know what the age of consent is under French law, and I'm not into kiddie stuff. I'm no pervert. They do seem anxious to help me get dressed again, and when I finally walk back out onto the platform, I'm confident that my dress is smoothed out, my stockings are pulled up with no wrinkles, and that my breasts are neatly back into their half-cups. Pierre is still waiting for the elevator. We ride down together, although we didn't speak much. He seemed very interested in the view. When the doors open back at ground level, a large crowd awaits us, and we get a standing ovation. Imagine that! For oral sex in Paris! The sadness I felt radiating off of him felt toxic. It tore Hardcore me apart. Slowly, she grabbed the bottoms of my shorts. She then takes off her blazer, which gives you a good view on her boobs. I shivered as I mounted the stage to where Phillipa Lockwood waited, her face tight. Holy shit, Cumshots are you alright? She suppresses her embarrassment, and takes the fact f a guard’s swing and miss to her advantage. Jenny: I am fine, but a little scared of what dad might say. When I looked up, my father was looking at my beasts and then he said “sorry”. I had barely touched her. She'd been taken from us so soon, but I was here for Daddy now. Your muscles are starting to nag Big Dick you, though you're distracted by the lewd display you know you're compelled to put on, with your beautiful, curved arse, high in the air. Attack!" I Big Tits said with mock sternness. Alice stirred on the ground, bleary-eyed. She turned to me, her face twisted in rage, and she charged me with teeth bared. Sighing she felt so alone, there was almost never a time they weren't together. You’re right. “My God that`s disgusting. She was sure he saw her eyeing his cock longingly. There was every possibility that it was all me. Maybe the reason she had anxiety in the past was just me. After all, she seemed happier now. Sue puts her had in her pants as she watches us. They talked about his family back home MILF in the shires.