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As soon as she was calm enough she repeated the toast “secret painting!” and took a sip. As she did I reached into my bag and picked out my sketchpad. Naomi almost spat out the wine again “Oh no! Not here!” She jumped up and led me away; “follow me” she whispered excitedly. I grabbed my satchel and wine and hurried to catch up. We tiptoed past Jim’s room and hid ourselves in her bedroom. She slid the bolt on the door behind us. I looked around. I didn’t know what to expect really. Naomi’s mix of shyness and forwardness was giving few clues into her tastes and style. What I saw was a large square room with a large bed – queen size I guess – with purple quilt to match the deep purple padded headboard. Dark mahogany bedside cupboards both sides. Shiny silver wallpaper with purple and black stencilled flowers flowing and twining all over. A white shabby-chic make-up table covered in tiny bottles and boxes and jewellery with a large oval tilting mirror behind. Two large bookcases behind the door, overflowing with worn and tattered novels. A large dormer window in the sloping roof with velvet purple curtains. The room was carefully and recently decorated, and not a hint of a teenage girl anywhere; no horse posters, no boy bands, no silly signs. And there, in the far corner, was an electric keyboard on a stand and beside it, majestic, a glowing white cello leaning into the corner. The deep polished glow of the cello in the low light of the room drew the eye into its depths. I could see movement in the cello. It was the reflection of Naomi, peeling off her clothes! I stood, mesmerized, staring at the cello. I saw her pause. I looked around to her, standing just in front of me, frozen as though scared to continue. Her lantern trousers were already discarded, draped over the small stool at the make-up table. She was holding the hem of her tank top, poised to lift it up. “I’ve never done anything like this big ass before!” she whispered urgently, nervously, looking to me for permission. I jerked my eyes up towards safety, leaving her midriff and frilly black panties and focusing on her eyes boring into mine. “Me neither” I confided. Naomi giggled and whispered “What is it you do to me?” “This is our secret” I whispered back japanese conspiratorially. Naomi steeled herself and pulled the tank top up over her head. That Toys moment the tank top was covering her face my eyes feasted on her pert little breasts pushing out from her chest held tight by a frilly black bra. The moment lasted only a short time as she struggled to get the top over her hair bun without displacing the chopsticks but the image will stay with me forever. She dropped the top on top of her trousers on the stool and looked at me nervously, expectantly. I smiled. I couldn’t help but grin. She grinned back, her cheeks blushed. She didn’t move to remove her underwear and I didn’t want to push her. Suddenly I was scared this was all going too fast and that I could scare her. I tits nodded towards the cello “you play?” oriental The sudden movement caused an immediate reaction, and MacKenna screamed her first crest of the afternoon. I tasted another small load as it dribbled across my tongue. Their minds tits were reeling with the possibilities. I pumped her head hard, the tension of days of denial had big ass be worked out of me. I held that hair tight and used to make her work at it. It felt like I was in a daze. Are you feeling it, Certiok?” She strutted across the room, and wrapped an arm around her paramour. It was on the third week that I realised that people could see my bare legs, and possibly more. I need to speak with him.” "Love Ya!" “It’s okay,” I finally managed. You feel kisses and licks on your thighs and spread your oriental legs opening yourself for pleasure. The well stacked japanese Toys wife felt that she didn’t deserve his attitude or his attributes. I thought here we go again.