. yeah, I could do that." Good, because ever since Saturday I've been wanting to do ... more."Robby felt a little faint. "More." he repeated."Yes ... ...ore." said his mother.He got up and went to his room, where he tried to think about his homework assignment. How could he possibly write a poem when all he could think about was his mother's body? The curve of her breasts, with their up-looking nipples, looking like tiny ski jumps or something.He stiffened. Wait a minute ... what if...He sat down. Hilla fuhr fort: „Das Herausschleudern des Samens wie aus einem eruptiven Vulkan –das zittern der pochenden Eichel im Takte des Stromschlages“ – das Stöhnen und Winseln nun endlich abspritzen zu dürfen – diese Gedanken machen mich gerade richtig rattig. Auch ich will es zu gerne erleben, wie dieses pulsierenden Stromstöße mich erregen werden.“Hillas gesammelte abrasierte Schamhaare - ein duftender FetischIch küsste Hilla; meine Hand spürte ihren feuchten Ozean. „Ich hole gleich das Boot, dass. More

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