“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”“Whip!”Peter Mitchell was crying once more, as the dark-haired French...teacher administered her strokes quickly, not giving him much time at all between each one. Auntie Wendy smiled at her friend as she held the young man down into the table, impressed that the older woman was capable of punishing him so severely. It took him a few minutes to calm down and, when the ladies were satisfied, Mrs. Taylor released her hold on his wrists and walked. ” But instead, my hands moved up and grasped her breasts on the blouse.Pressing them, I said, “Lunch can wait, Aunty. First, I want to eat your pussy and drink your sweet nectar.” My fingers felt her thin blouse material indicating the absence of a bra. So my aunty was not wearing a bra under her blouse, I thought.“Are you joking, Rajesh? Ruksana is here. Please leave me and have your lunch like a good boy. You can do whatever you want in the evening but not now. Your Uncle is coming tomorrow. More

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