Blonde Girl

Her right hand clawed at the desk top. Was that what blonde girl was supposed to do? Marcie apparently liked it. But the hole was so tiny, barely the diameter of his finger. Her body twisted like she was tormented French within by demons. She whimpered and her back arched off the desk like a bridge when twanny tongue touched a certain spot. She lay back on top of his desk, moaning, and knocked over the pen falsely and a framed picture of his sister. The more he licked there, the more she moaned. Honestly, how could a man expect to fit twanny penis inside that?He licked again, running his tongue slowly up and down her groove. They peeled apart easily, like the delicate flesh of a fruit and revealed a hole, an access into her body.