"For a fleeting moment after Katy had first said it, I was surprisedBecky was my sister. I didn't exactly remember having a little sisternamed Becky. ...nd yet, at the same time I clearly remembered her. Evenif I didn't recognize her surname as being the same as mine at first,I knew she was my sister. Who else but my very own sister couldsomeone who looked so much like me really be? But I couldn't reallyunderstand why I had thought she was still ten years old; I knew shewas eleven. I'd even gone. That week at her house was a pure musk fest. Monday-Friday, I’d wake up in the morning as she’s ready to leave and tells me goodbye. I’d eat the breakfast she left me, then head right to her room for the first cock beating of the day. Her post jog thongs were the best. Different one every day, same amazing stink of sweaty vagina and asshole. Boy, those post-jog thongs were powerful, way more stinky and danker than the thongs she had plastered to her holes all day. Her post-jog thongs were still. More

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