. He willed his feathers to collapse back into their sheaths, knowing that she didn’t understand the meaning of his pink coloration, but feeling emb...rrassed all the same. He spoke up, his high-pitched, tinny voice carrying through the trees.“H-Hello,” he said, hoping that she spoke English. She cocked her head again, her hanging skin swaying with the motion, then raised a hand in what looked like a greeting. Good, she seemed to have understood. “My name is Tepin’chi’atli,” he continued, waiting. After dinner Harold did want sex and I just shrugged and undressed and waited for Harold to climb on and push himself into my sloppy pussy. I wondered if Harold knew what sloppy seconds felt like and how he was going to react. Harold was bound to find out sooner or later because I wasn't going to stop. That afternoon had shown me what a real fuck was like and I'd loved it and I wanted more. If it wasn't Al it was going to be somebody. Harold climbed on and poked his prick into me and then. More

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