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Introduction:

Lucas, your average high school student, and Isabelle, a French foreign exchange student, have been friends for years, but that is al goingl change soon...
When I woke up from the blaring sound of my alarm the next morning, I groggily turned it off and headed to my shower. I quickly rinsed, dried, and got dressed before coming out. There was no naked Isabelle this time which, while a little disappointing, was good. It was so awkward the last time and I didn’t want to be thinking about that during the school day.

“Morning,” Isabelle said as she emerged from Mary’s old room, “Are you ready for school?” she asked.

“Are you? You’re the new one,” I joked as we headed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

My parents weren't awake so I just fixed us up some bagels with cheese, something light. As soon as I was done eating, I went back up to my bathroom and brushed my teeth before the bus came.

Isabelle was a bit nervous with all of the people on the bus, which was cute to me, but we managed to found a seat. “Who’s she?” so many people asked. Each time I would have to explain that she was a new foreign exchange student that was staying with me. They wondered how a guy got a female exchange student and then I had to explain how our families were friends et cetera, et cetera. By the time we got to school I was already exhausted.

We entered my small school and walked to my locker first. I put away my coat and lunch box and then Isabelle and I moved to her locker. I taught her how to enter the combination as more people walked by us, wondering who she was. “I got it!” she exclaimed in excitement jumping up and down as she opened up the locker, putting her coat and lunch in it.

“Where to now?” she asked

“Psychology,” I replied as the bell rung for our first class.

Since the school was small, and since I had been going there for nearly 3 years now, it was easy to navigate to where we needed to go. Isabelle just held my hand and followed where ever I went, looking around at all of the posters and people. She seemed completely fascinated by all of it. We entered Mrs. Rudy’s room, the psychology teacher, just on time as the second bell rung.

“Ah, you must be Isabelle,” Mrs. Rudy said, looking directly at us as we found some free seats towards the front. “Class, this is Isabelle, the foreign exchange student from… France?”

“Oui,” Isabelle said.

A low murmur filled the class as the students talked to each other. Isabelle was still holding onto my hand nervously, her palms getting slightly clammy. She realized that she was still holding on and let go quickly, bringing her hands up to her face. Mrs. Rudy began the introduction as we listened, all still sleepy from having to get up at 5:30 in the morning just for the buses. A few times, Isabelle took out this odd, gameboy looking device, rapidly typing in words.

“Um, Isabelle, there are no phones in school,” Mrs. Rudy said sternly.

Isabelle looked confused and even more nervous. She looked down at her device and came to a sudden realization.

“No, this is a, eh, translator,” she said, holding it up for Mrs. Rudy to see as the attention of the entire class focused on Isabelle.

“I see,” Mrs. Rudy said, going back to the introduction.

All of my classes were double period classes so they lasted 90 minutes each, which felt like forever. I kept looking around the room for anything to distract me from my boredom. My eyes wandered and wandered until they ended up fixed on Isabelle. I hated how she made me feel but loved it at the same time. Everything about her just made me like her even more. “Her hair looks a little more curly today than usual,” I found myself thinking, “And her cute dress looked really good on her.” Why was it so impossible for me to just ignore her, even more a minute?

“Mr. -um- Callahan,” I heard Mrs. Rudy say, bringing my attention to the front of the board.

“What?” I asked surprised and nervous.

“I know the wall looks great today, but could you please focus,” she said, saving me from the embarrassment of letting the class know I had been looking at Isabelle.

“Yes ma’am,” I replied, focusing back to the front of the class.

The classes giggles slowly died down as Mrs. Rudy continued with her seemingly endless introduction to Psychology. “Maybe this is a test to see who here was mentally fit,” I thought to myself. Soon, she transitioned to the lesson for the day and everybody got out their notebooks and laptops. I always left my laptop at home simply because I was paranoid somebody would log on and find something I didn’t want the world knowing I did. Besides, handwriting notes left more of an imprint in my mind.

As the class dragged on to the bell for third period, I found myself having to shake the thought of Isabelle out of my mind too frequently. When passing time began and everyone spilled into the narrow hallways, Isabelle grabbed hold of my hand again as I lead her through the maze of walls and lockers, dodging other students and teachers at every corner. “This should be it,” I said as we entered the health class. Mr. Hutt, our health and fitness teacher, welcomed all the 13 of us to the class as we found our seats at the small, circular tables spread out across the room.

“Who’s ready to talk about some Penises and Vaginas?” he began, making some of the kids giggle. “Wow, this is a tiny class,” he stated, looking around the room.

Another long, boring introduction ensued as my mind wandered again. I was really good at occupying time with over analyzing social situations, looking at them from every angle possible, which was a curse and a blessing. For one thing, I was never bored, but at the same time I was always spacing out. As Mr. Hutt read off the attendance sheet, he came across Isabelle.

“Isabelle Servais,” he said, questioning the pronunciation of her last name.

“That is me,” she replied.

“Are you the new-“

“Oui,” she replied, cutting him off.

“Oh great!” Mr. Hutt said, “Class, this is Isabelle, she’s a foreign exchange student from France.”

“Bonjour,” Isabelle said to the class.

“Do you have a preferred nickname?” Mr. Hutt asked.

“eh, Isabelle or Izzy,” she replied.

“Alright, Izzy, welcome to health and fitness,” he said, almost too enthusiastically.

The rest of health class was rather boring so I won’t make you suffer the details. Basically, we briefly covered what we would be doing for the semester and we were released to lunch. Isabelle followed me out, not holding my hand anymore which was a little disappointing to be honest. “What is next?” she asked. “Lunch,” I said, walking to Isabelle’s locker. She struggled to unlock it, but managed to get it open and take her lunch out. Then we went to my locker and grabbed my lunch before heading off to the cafeteria.

“Where should we sit?” Isabelle asked.

“I think the question is where can we sit?” I replied, looking at the nearly full cafeteria.

We ended up finding a seat in the back corner where our friends Amanda, Kyle, and Aaron had saved us a spot. Robby went to a different high school entirely, but he wasn’t really missed. “Hi,” they all said as we sat down, opening our lunch boxes. My mom packed us a sandwich, a water bottle, and some chips, as usual, which we both ate slowly as we talked amongst the rest of the group.

Occasionally I’d find myself looking next to me at Isabelle who was wearing a rather tight dress with dark blue and white stripes going horizontally. It was very bland, but she looked amazing in it. At some points, I thought I could see, just barely, where her nipples poked through the fabric. My eyes glanced downwards, towards her thighs. The dress she was wearing had a small skirt that barely covered her ass, but underneath it she wore leggings which only outlined her butt even more. “She looks great today,” I thought to myself as I turned back to the conversation.

After lunch was over, Isabelle and I had World Literature. That class was taught by Mrs. Young, probably the nicest teacher in all of LakeView, which was my school’s name by the way. She taught mostly English classes, but also subbed quite frequently in the science classes when she wasn’t teaching. After another introduction to the class that took half an hour, we started straight away by reading and taking notes on some article on drones and their application in military and recreation. It was really boring, but kept my focus off of Isabelle, who, again, was sitting right next to me.

When World Literature ended, after seemingly little time, we headed out to our final class of the day, Principles of Engineering, taught by the infamous Mr. Larson. I don’t want to say he was crazy, but probably somewhere close to it. He would always go off on rants about his latest conspiracy theory, which was completely against the rules of the school district, but everybody was so entertained that no one complained.

Not only was he a nut job, he also was kind of racist. I remember one time he asked this Asian kid how his rice fields were going because his first name was Ben, as in Uncle Ben’s rice. He didn’t know the kid was Asian until he looked up and saw him, but he never apologized and he still questions him about his fields of rice. Also, he had a tendency to harass the darker skinned kids with unreasonable questions and pester them with unneeded help to embarrass them for ‘mis behaving’ when in actuality, they were doing nothing wrong. I was honestly worried what he might say about Isabelle, being French and all. To this day, I had no idea how he hadn’t been fired.

“So this teacher, Mr. Larson, is a little fou,” I warned, meaning crazy.

Isabelle giggled as we took our seats. Mr. Larson made his entrance, followed, as usual, by a crew of Seniors and Juniors who found him hilarious. He greeted the class and introduced himself with his usual hour long story about his first car, his first job, his family, his military career, etc. The whole class was nearly asleep before he even took attendance and it was already half way into 8th period, the last period of the day, when he finally began our first lesson. Isabelle rested herself on my shoulder as Mr. Larson began teaching the safety guidelines of each of the machines that we would be working on.

“How long is this class?” she asked after a cute yawn.

I looked quickly at the clock in the room. It read 2:26 pm.

“10 minutes,” I answered as I too yawned.

“You look funny when you yawn,” Isabelle giggled, taking her tired head off of my shoulder and grabbing at my cheeks, playing with them as a second yawn came over me. Isabelle yawned again and playfully slapped my arm saying, “Look what you’ve started.”

I giggled with her as we tried to pay attention to the lesson. It was always difficult to know when and when not to pay attention in Mr. Larson’s classes because he would often go off on some sort of rant or personal story when he taught. And when I say often, I mean every 1-5 minutes, he would split off into a 10 minute story or rant that sometimes pertained to the lesson. I wondered how anyone could ever pass his classes when he barely taught anything.

When the day was finally over, I followed Isabelle to her locker and she followed me to mine as we picked up our lunch boxes and headed out to the buses which were, as usual, crowded with screaming kids. We sat up front with the quiet kids and talked the whole ride about funny school stories. When we were dropped off at my stop, Isabelle, who was sitting in towards the isle, got out first and her ass looked amazing as she got up. I shook the thoughts out of my head and headed out with her, walking up my driveway and into my house. My mom and dad both worked during the week, so they weren’t home until at least 5:00 to 6:00.

“I’m so tired,” Isabelle said, yawning again.

“Oh great, not again,” I thought to myself as I held back yawns of my own. “Me too,” I replied as we walked up the stairs, “But, at least we don’t have homework.”

“That is true,” Isabelle said joyfully, “Do you want to play video games or something?”

“Um, yeah sure,” I said as we went into my room, setting our backpacks down.

After a few minutes of playing one of my racing games, I paused it and turned to Isabelle who was confused.

“Why did you pause?” she asked.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” I said, feeling a gut-wrenching nervousness.

“What is it?” Isabelle said after a short, awkward pause.

“When you kissed me the other day and said ‘petit ami’, what did you mean?” I asked, not even thinking about the words that were pouring out of my mouth. Immediately I regretted ever opening my mouth as Isabelle giggled, and paused before answering.

“I meant, petit ami,” she said, pausing again, “I… I like you,” she said.

We sat there, dead silent for a few painstaking moments, not knowing what, if anything to do.

“I - ehem - I like you too,” I said, clearing my throat as a gigantic weight lifted off of my heavy chest.

Isabelle giggled as cars raced by on the TV screen. “I am glad,” she finally said, getting a little closer to me, “petit ami,” she giggled, nudging my shoulder as she resumed the video game.

I wide smile spread across my face as the cars started again, going insanely fast.

“Petite amie,” I muttered, which meant girlfriend in French. It was Isabelle’s turn to smile as she crashed her car into mine, spinning both of us out.

“Embrasser,” she giggled, which meant ‘a kiss’. I turned to face her and quickly surprised her with a quick kiss on the lips at the moment our cars exploded.

“Embrasser,” I said as our lips parted

“Une de plus?” she asked softly, which meant “one more?”

“Oui,” I replied, cradling her jaw with my hand as I leaned in for anther kiss.

This kiss lasted longer and felt amazing. I’ve never had a kiss with an individual that felt more gratifying, more emotional, and more pleasant than that kiss. Her lips tasted like a hint of cherry and she breathed gently out of her nose. The cool air rolled down my cheek as our lips parted, seconds after they met. Isabelle reached her head up to mine, kissing me again as we both put the controllers on the ground. She turned to face me more, eventually sitting my back against my bed as she kneeled in front of me. Our kisses became more and more passionate as our emotions poured out through our lips.

Isabelle pulled her head away from mine briefly, looking deep into my eyes.

“I missed you” she said, the taste of her lips still lingering on mine.

“I missed you too,” I replied.

Isabelle smiled at me, darting her eyes down to my chest before bringing them back up again. I found it easy to look her directly in the eyes now. I felt comfortable around her finally. Her hand moved up to mine slowly, wrapping her fingers around my own, one by one until we were holding hands. I leaned in and kissed her lips again. Lightly at first, but slowly, she started introducing a little tongue. Soon, our tongues were dancing around each other, exploring the new territories of each other’s mouths as we made out. At first it felt a little weird, but I got into it more as Isabelle kneeled comfortably on my lap.

As we kissed, more and more, I started to feel myself becoming hard. Isabelle didn’t notice at first, but as it grew, she could feel it on her thighs. She took her lips off of mine and gave me a cute but awkward smile. “Oh shit, I already ruined it,” I thought to myself as my heart sank. She giggled at the ‘oh shit’ expression on my face and said, “Hello there,” looking down at the obvious bulge pressing up on my jeans. My cheeks flushed with blood as I blushed.

“Sorry,” I managed to blurt out.

“Don’t be, it means you like me,” she replied, going back to kissing me.

Confused, I went back to kissing Isabelle’s sweet, full lips as my boner raged on. Isabelle didn’t seem to pay much attention to my not-so little friend, just kissing me more. Soon, my cock started throbbing as I desperately wanted to relieve myself. Isabelle undoubtably felt it through her thin leggings, but, still, she didn’t seem to mind. I took my mind off of it and focused on the beautiful girl right in front of me. A few minutes later, Isabelle pulled her lips off of mine, again, moving herself back on my legs.

“I’m kind of hungry,” she said, her accent showing through her nervous voice.

“Yeah, uh, me too,” I said, letting her stand up before I did.

I followed her down the stairs, quickly fixing my hard on so it went up into my waist line and wasn’t as noticeable. We walked into the kitchen and I asked what she wanted to eat. “Something light,” she replied, sitting down at the table. I looked at the clock, “Already 4:30,” I thought to myself as I rummaged through the fridge. I pulled out two apples, tossing one to Isabelle who caught it perfectly with both hands.

“Nice catch,” I said, biting a chunk out of mine as Isabelle did the same, smiling at me.

We snacked and talked like normal, but this time, I was a whole lot happier and more comfortable and I could tell Isabelle was too. I didn’t want to bring up the events that just transpired, feeling it would be a little awkward since I got a hard on, but Isabelle seemed perfectly comfortable with the topic.

“Tu embrasses très bien,” she said, meaning “You kiss very well.”

“Merci,” I replied, “Et toi,” meaning, “Thank you, and you.”

Isabelle blushed.

“I must have been,” she giggled, making me turn completely red.

“Yeah, um sorry about that,” I said awkwardly as I finished my apple.

“Don’t be, I liked it,” she replied, “Trés agréable,” or “Very enjoyable.”


That evening, we stayed up playing video games in my room until late at night. Isabelle fell asleep quicker than me and rather than carry her to Mary’s old room, which would have definitely woken her up, I just picked her up and laid her down in my bed. I took out an extra blanket and stole a pillow off my bed and tried to fall asleep on the floor next to her, setting my alarm for the next morning.

“Why do you sleep down there?” asked a dazed, groggy Isabelle, “Come up here,” she said.

I heard the comforter open up and a small hand pat on a spot for me to sleep.

“What if my mom finds us together?” I asked, getting into my bed anyway.

“Don’t live by ‘what if’s,” Isabelle whispered as I snuggled up next to her.

I smiled in the darkness and kissed her cheek before we both fell into a deep, calm sleep. When we woke up the next morning, everything seemed great. We were well rested, happy, and comfortable around each other.

A lot of the time new lovers say they feel like they’ve known each other for years, but we actually have known each other for years. It felt almost taboo and exciting to not only start a relationship after so many years of friendship, but have it be secretive under my parents. I wanted to tell everyone, I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs, but I couldn’t which was surprisingly thrilling.

Isabelle kissed my cheek and headed off to her room and then the shower down the hall. I went and grabbed some new clothes from my closet and started a shower in my bathroom, quickly getting ready before school started. When I came down into the kitchen, Isabelle and my mom were talking about something while they made breakfast.

“You’re so helpful,” my mother said.

“Oh, please, you are housing me,” Isabelle replied, giving them both a good laugh.

We ate a quick breakfast before heading out to the buses again. The school day seemed to whiz by as Isabelle and I goofed around in class, mostly just talking to each other in french so no one would understand us, which we both thought was hilarious. At lunch, we’d giggle and point at my friends, saying gibberish in french as they desperately wanted to know what we were saying about them. By the end of the day, we were both so full of laughter that it was hard to be tired. We were assigned some homework in World Literature as well as History, but it was easy and we got it done in minutes together.

After about a week and a half had gone by, Isabelle and I were both ahead in all of our classes, sticking to the strict schedule of laughing our asses off in school and finishing all of our work at home where we could focus better. We had many more nights of staying up late and playing games, small make out sessions, and sleeping over in each other’s rooms, never getting further than lip contact. One Friday night, around 5:00 in the evening, when we had finished all of our work for the following Monday, we were getting closer to another potentially sleepless night of talking and kissing.

“So, what now?” Isabelle asked as we sat around the kitchen table, sipping on some fresh tea.

“Well, my parents said they’re going out with some friends tonight, they won’t be back until at least 9:00,” I replied, hoping to have another make out session with her.

“Oui,” she said, hoping I would take the initiative.

“So,” I continued, standing up and walking towards the stairs, but not before reaching my hand out for Isabelle to hold on to.

“Lead the way,” she giggled, holding on to my hand as we walked up into my room.

We entered my room and I sat down on the edge of my bed. Isabelle walked towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she kneeled over my lap, pushing me back onto my bed. I fell back, holding on to Isabelle as she playfully screamed, “Ah! Qui tombe!” I laughed as she positioned her head over mine, looking at me in the eyes directly before planting a kiss on my lips.

Her lips tasted like cinnamon sugar today, and I could not get enough of them. I started scooching up on my bed so my legs weren’t hanging off the edge, but gave up as it was a little too awkward. Instead, I sat up again, holding Isabelle in my arms as I stood up, turned around and flopped her back down on my bouncy mattress. She giggled her enlivening giggle as I lowered myself over her slim body.

As I rested my chest on hers, beginning to kiss her again, I could feel her perky nipples through her small, blue v-neck. She lifted one of her legs up, wrapping it over my thigh, bringing me closer to her as her nipples hardened. I could feel myself beginning to get hard as we continued to kiss passionately.

“Oh, Lucas,” she moaned as my kisses moved down to her neck.

Her lustful hands moved along my broad shoulders, feeling up to my jaw while I gently pecked her neck with my soft lips. Isabelle’s hips instinctively started gyrating on my crotch while I moved my kisses back up to her eager lips, smelling her sweet perfume. It mixed with my cologne in almost all of my shirts, forming a new smell, greater than before.

“Lucas,” she said, grabbing my attention. I looked her in her yearning, green eyes, staring deeply into them.

“Isabelle,” I said, playing with her.

“I… I love you,” she said, looking into my eyes for a true reaction.

“I love you too,” I said slowly, “I love you in every sense of the word,” I said, hugging her closer to me. And I did. I never wanted to be apart from her and when we were together, I felt this warm, comfortable feeling inside. We never ran out of things to say, even though we pretty much did everything together. I thought of her every second of the day. Even though I already had her, I was still trying to woo her and win her over.

“What do you love about me?” she asked in a playful manner.

“I love you because you are you.” I started, “Everything you do makes me happier. You make me strive to become a better person, not just to woo you, but because being a better person makes me feel closer to your level or perfection. Isabelle, your infectious smile gives me goosebumps and whenever you laughed, I feel amazing. I never want to be away from you, not even for a second.” I said, all in French so she could better understand it, also because I knew she appreciated it when I spoke French to her. Isabelle started to tear up as I went on.

“I got that off of a bumper sticker,” I joked when I had exhausted my linguistic talent. Isabelle giggled, wiping her eyes with her fingers, smearing her mascara a little bit. I leaned in and kissed her quivering lips.

“Now, show me,” she said grabbing hold of my hands, brining them closer to her breasts.

My kisses ran down her neck as I gently massaged her supple breasts, feeling her nipples in the center of my palms. I lowered my kisses even further to her collar bone, moving her shirt collar down with my forefinger. Isabelle gave a light moan as I kissed her fervently.

She reached her arms down underneath my body, pulling up on her shirt and with one swift motion, tossed it aside, leaving just her lacy bra between me and her gorgeous chest. My cold hands reached up underneath her bra, cupping her bare breasts as I kissed them, sucking lightly on her nipples. I could feel Isabelle’s heart beating rapidly as I caressed her breasts, taking turns kissing them and sucking on them. Soft moans escaped her lips as she shivered from my cold hands.

“Lower,” she whispered.

Isabelle placed her small hand on my head, gently pushing down as she tousled my hair with her fingers. I started kissing her down her slim figure as she made sudden gasps. Goosebumps began to form on her body as I kissed her down to her naval. She had taken her hand off of my head, massaging her perfectly round breasts in them while she moaned lightly. I was hesitant to go any lower than her belly button, not wanting to impose on her, but she kept insisting.

My fingers wrapped around the waist band of her jeans, slowly pulling them down past her feet. I wrapped my hands around her shin high socks, following her smooth legs up as I kissed her thigh up to her lacy panties. “Her underwear is matching,” I thought to myself, “she must’ve planned for this.” I smiled at the prospect, continuing to kiss her. Her panties’ light blue color had a clearly wet spot where her slit was.

I briefly looked up to Isabelle who seemed to be enjoying herself. She looked back at me and slightly nodded her head. Slowly, I unveiled her slippery vulva, noticing that they were cleanly shaven recently. Isabelle shivered as I brought her panties past her feet, laying back on top of her with my fingers barely touching her slit. I kissed her sweet lips again, tasting the familiar cinnamon sugar as my fingers started to lightly rub her clit. Very cautiously, I slipped my middle finger into her tight pussy, feeling around for her g-spot.

“Oui,” she moaned as I found the spongey ridge.

Her back arched underneath me, pressing her hard nipples against my chest as I slid my ring finger up into her insanely tight pussy. I slowly rubbed the tips of my fingers along her g-spot over and over again, a practice I had almost mastered in my time with Kristy. “Oh, Lucas,” Isabelle whispered as I pleasured her. She started to make sudden, involuntary movements as my pace quickened. Every so often we could hear the faint sounds of my fingers stroking her engorged g-spot. Isabelle was so insanely wet, it was practically dripping from her slit as my fingers pulled more out with each stroke.

“Ca fait du bien,” she exclaimed, which meant “It feels good,”

Within minutes, Isabelle started shaking as her eyes closed tightly and her pussy started convulsing. “Je Jouis!” she screamed, which roughly meant, “I’m cumming!” I smiled as I kept my pace, making her moan and scream as she ran her fingers through her soft, red hair. When she had finally calmed down, all she could say was, “Wow,” and “Oh my God,” in soft, breathy whispers. I kissed her on the lips for a few more seconds as she breathed heavily out of her nose.

“I love you so much Lucas,” she whispered, out of breath.

“I love you more,” I replied, kissing her as we both smiled widely, our lips still touching as we laughed.

I removed my we fingers from her slippery pussy, trailing them up to her breasts, leaving a slick trail of her juices behind. “Undress for me,” Isabelle whispered, our lips barely touching. I smiled at her as I stood up, pulling my tight fitting shirt over my lean muscles. My belt was next to go, clanking all the way down on its descent to my floor. I dropped my pants and boxers, revealing my semi hard cock. Isabelle marveled at it with wide eyes. It may be my lack of confidence, but really I’m just average size. I guess she just hadn’t seen many before, which was a good thing.

Carefully, I lowered myself over Isabelle’s yearning naked body, letting my cock get pinned in between her slit and my stomach. We kept kissing short, gentle kisses, with little to no tongue as we touched and caressed each other’s bodies, exploring seemingly every inch. I loved squeezing her firm ass in my hands while we kissed, taking Isabelle’s breath away as my fingers just grazed along her labia.

All of the sudden I realized how comfortable I was with Isabelle. It’s been tensely awkward for the past couple of days, even after we told each other about our feelings, but now, in my room, completely naked and vulnerable, there was nothing else but our love. We put up these fronts, these facades of what is socially acceptable and what is normal, never letting our true, emotional nature breathe. It was awkward and uneasy because everything we truly felt we knew was taboo and inappropriate to the rest of the world. But in that room, with just the two of us, fully exposed, it was freeing; it was magical; it was love…
11 comments

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-02-26 22:15:22
When does the next part come out?

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-02-26 19:20:45
eagerly waiting for part 4

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-02-19 19:56:47
Can't wait for part 4

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-02-16 09:07:09
REVEALED AFTER TWENTY NINE YEARS OF SECRECY
OVER BILLIONS OF WOMEN SMILED AND SAY GOLDEN

DELIVERED MY GOLDEN BIRTHDAY TO QUEEN OF THE SOUTH OR LA REINA DEL SUR XXX RATED INTERNATIONAL GOLDEN BOX VALUED AT EXPENSIVE ( SEX TOY WITH SCENT) MY QUEEN IS STATIONARY MOVES EVERYWHERE SHINES AND SMILES BETTER ALWAYS HAS SEX WITH WHO SHE WANTS SHE ASKS FOR SEX INSTEAD OF ME IM FAITHFUL AND LOYAL ALWAYS I EXERCISE ONLY. I ALWAYS ARRIVE WITH ROSES TO BRING HER THE GLASS OF JUICE WITH PRIDE AFTER SHE DENIED THE WATER IS DESIRED.

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-02-16 04:31:36
Bravissimo! T'as commencé d'avoir plus maturité qu'avant dans ton manière d'écriture. C'était très agréable. Avec tout l'impatience j'attendrai pour la prochaine partie. Vas-y!

V et V

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