“My late husband tried to throw me in the Trevvy Fountain in Italy,” she said.“Really?” I said disinterestedly.“He hurt his back.” she sai....“Really?” I sighed“Yes,” she replied, “Pulled a muscle, he was a lovely man, lovely muscles when we were married, he liked my cooking, that’s why he married me, I made sure he had a good tea every day so he didn’t go chasing other women.and he grew a great big pot belly by the time he had his heart attack.”“Really?” I sighed, “I’ll make sure I don’t have. But given my sexual freedom on this boat was very erotic. As I pulled Ian up, his face bumped my already hardening cock, and I moaned a 'more.' He paused at groin level and lightly bit the outline of my swollen pole a couple of times. The others didn't see his actions and thought that he needed help getting up. With that thought in mind, they grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet.Ian was a good four inches taller than me, and I looked up at him as he held out his hand while saying,. More

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