nissa мастурбира 1

The lights are dimmed, and you, my lover, are alone as you approach the casket. Your heart races. You've not seen me since my death, and you're filled with equal parts dread, and desire. You lift the hardwood lid, and are at first struck by the delicate scent of my perfume, then as your eyes adjust to the poorly lit interior, you are struck by how shaved peaceful and composed I look. My red hair is neatly arrayed about me; it cascades down the pink satin pillow and beneath my shoulders. My silk blouse lays slightly parted--the top buttons undone, allowing you to see the hollow of my cleavage, and nestled within, the crucifix you gave me oh Nipples so long ago. You clit eye strays to the small tents my nipples (now stiff in death) pussy pitch in the light blue fabric. You fingers itch to touch them, to pinch them, and to caress my pliant breasts. You lick you lips, passion enflamed, as you continue to drink in the sight of my corpse. 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 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 three days. The cruel joke, so deftly played upon me by death, leaves my feet curled and arched as tits 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. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking input.” I growled, squeezing both asses. Scott could think of no better way to describe her. “Can I make my own babies?” Diamond asked, reaching between her legs and trying to self-reproduce. “Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Davies.” What could I do? We got home and before I pulled in the driveway Lindsey had her shirt off and my pants unzipped. We clit weren't the only ones gasping in pleasure. Carly pushed her legs apart, then Zane pushed himself up into her one more pussy time. “No, I mean it. He was about to speak when Queen Triada cut tits him off. We got to the lay-by and saw Dan’s car was parked all most out shaved of sight at the far end of the lay-by, l parked in front of him then me and Trudy quickly nipped up the pathway to the trees and bushes, a little way along the path l let her walk on ahead of me, Dan would meet with Nipples her somewhere along the path then drag my wife off into the bushes to begin the role-play rape. Another man took the first mans place and resumed her beating. Tom peers over his shoulder to ask what the problem was and not wanting to embarrass the two she says,