2,99 €
Warning: This is a vintage hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description.
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Carol shook herself mentally and told herself she was being ridiculous. Jimmy was a brat. He was lazy and like his mother, whose selfishness she despised. And Jimmy, no matter how much he might remind her of Jim, was her nephew. Nothing-certainly, nothing-could come of that, no matter how lonely she got or how strong her desires became while Frank was away.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Anita Mandelay
Copyright © 2017
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
She put her hand on the door handle and hesitated. She knew she should start the car and back away and run home. She should stop coming here before she got to the point where she couldn't live with herself or with Frank any more because of the dirtiness. But the burning, pulsing throbs of need in her womb made her pussy squirm and leak fluid into her panties, and she knew she wouldn't turn back tonight or the next night either.
Her labia began to grow puffy as they swelled with readiness to accept the brutal length of Al's prick again. Her clit budded outward from under its tent, and the pressure of her heated thighs, squeezing softly in from the sides, made it tingle. Her fingers tightened around the handle as if impatient. Carol's feelings of cheapness became fuzzy as her mind began its weekly act of rationalization. The tips of her breasts bloated and pressed against the fabric of her bra, filling the cups in the same way desire filled her body and excuses filled her mind.
She was already here. She needed a good, strong, blinding orgasm. One more time-what did it matter if she did it one more time? Next week, she would . . .
Carol shivered slightly and opened her thighs, pressing hard against her pussy with the heel of her hand, wondering why she didn't simply tickle herself off to relieve the ache of Frank's absence, instead of going through the baseness she would endure inside the cement-block cubicle with Al. She promised herself to try, but the pledge was hollow.
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!