He was stroking his cock through my lacy panties. “You knew I was watching you and you loved it.” “You’re wearing my knickers.” I said, stat...ng the obvious. “Mmm.” He replied, unashamed. “I came into the room to get your clothes to put in the tumble drier and when I saw your damp panties I just had to smell and lick the crotch. Then I wanted to feel where your wet little cunt has been against my hard cock.” He was still stroking through the material, his cock straining and stretching the. The miracle couldn't last; early November snow rarely does, even in the northwoods country of Spearfish Lake. There would be snow enough in the next few months that even the most joyous lover of winter would be thoroughly sick of it before the landscape turned to green, but the first blanket of white covering the fields and forest floors was a thing of beauty, a special wonder to behold.Mike McMahon hadn't been expecting snow; the weatherman on the TV station in Camden had said something about. More

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