For most of the day he was either out walking the farm with his shotgun ready to bag a pheasant or rabbit for the pot, or he was down at the local pub...or watching football on TV. He rarely seemed to do any work. It was Pauline who tended the kitchen garden and fed the chickens.Mark on the other hand, was always doing something.Lying there she remembered her first day and could see in her mind's eye the letter she had written to Lynda. It was almost a diary, because she added to it for several. Looking further up the stairs I saw a bra, she had left me a trail. I crept up the stairs, and as I reached the top I could hear my angel moaning, “Mmmm, she’s masturbating,” I thought. More underwear lead me to her room which was the furthest from the stairs, and as I crept closer, I could hear her moans intensifying as she started to gasp for breaths quicker and quicker, and let out sweet soft moans that told me she was about to cum. I flung the door open, as she started to scream out. She. More

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