Much of the poetry was divided between should we have sex and should we not have sex."Chrissie moved closer to him. He was paging through a fat book o... English poetry. Her shoulder touched his. Her sweet perfume wafted over him.Nancy moved in on the other side and got close, letting the point of one of her big tits punch into his bicep."Ah, ammmm, yes. Well, an interesting period in English literature indeed... Andrew Marvell's poem about his lady's girdle is most unusual, how he wished he. From my angle, I could just make out the white of her panties.Very slowly she moved her hand down to between her thighs and began a slow up and down motion with a finger pushed against her panties. She turned her head slightly toward me and I closed my eyes to make it look like I was still napping.She shifted a bit in her seat and I opened my eyes slightly once more. She was pushing her buttocks forward and spreading her legs a little further apart.She quickly sat up straighter and pushed her. More

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