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She was nervous but not teenager shy in trying to swing a date. Rather she was touched by fear — what if he was happily married, or separated becaus... he was a wife beater, or an axe murderer or …how stupid. She knew she was being silly and little wonder she didn’t have a man in her bed or better still, a man to talk and be attentive to her. As Elle would say one would be wise to take little risk at times. ‘Hello Joe, it’s Hannah Seymour, the woman…’ He remembered her! That pleased Hannah. They. John was not looking at the papers. Jemima bit her lip. God, she needed to sort herself out, and fast! She pushed her hand into her blouse, pulling up each cup to re-arrange her cleavage. As she did so, she dipped her thumb in the still-wet cum she had left in there."Sorry, but I guess sometimes we all need to adjust ourselves, don't we?" She was staring at the tent John had pitched in his trousers. She lowered her hand to his, and smeared a little cum onto the back of his hand. John thought it. More

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