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Free Bird!” Josie demanded, scrambling off the couch, and marching across the couple room. She pulled Skynyrd’s self-titled album off the shelf, and swapped the records. The pin dropped, the speakers sounding the pleasant crackle of the needle running the grooves. The lush organ came in with a G chord, then a D, then a somber E Minor. Josie let out a sigh, and spun languorously from the record player, her drunken eyes wandering the room as though she could see the music. Then those sapphire eyes fell on me, and I was transported to that first night when she looked at me like that, the moonlight casting her hair in a silver curtain. She smiled, knowing what I was thinking without having to voice it, my face a book she memorized every letter of, and hers the same. She bowed grandiosely, her cropped tank draping to reveal the swell of her breasts. “May I have this dance, dearest sister?” She asked me. I extended her my hand. “You may.” We came together, our finger laced, our feet positioned in pattern, our identical smiles curling with a shared secret. I took the lead, running my hand along her waist, resting it on the small of her back, pulling her against me. We stepped in time as the drums kicked in, and the opening guitar played its mournful melody, the sliding notes moving through our limbs, compelling the languid motions of our bodies as we spun gently about the axis of our joined centers. “If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?” Ronnie Van Zant’s torpid vocals dripped from the speaker, indian just words to pass the space between our eyes, for we were lost in the depthless sapphire pools that stared back. “For I must be travelling on now, cause there’s too many places I got to see.” My collage hand rounded the exquisite swell of her ass, the fingertips playing into her punjabi crack, the palm sliding beneath to cup her, to bring her leg into a bend so that her inner-thigh village overlapped my outer, hiking her skirt to her hip, the heat of her naked lust radiating unfettered against me. With her balance on one foot, and her outdoor body beholden to me, I gently dipped her. “But if I stayed here with you, girl, things just couldn’t be the same.” She wrapped her leg around me, her hair cascading in a sail beneath her as she descended in an arch, her chin tilted back to gaze upturned at our father, who sat on the couch, watching us with a cigarette burning between his lax, stupefied lips. “Cause I’m as free as a bird now…” I pulled her up to me, and she ascended in a graceful curve, her leg tightening about my waist to bring her torso against mine, our breasts squishing through our tops, the nipples stabbing into each other, rigid with sensation. Her fingers found my face at the end of it, her gaze locking with mine, our lips a whisper apart, opened to taste the other’s breath. One perfect, black-varnished fingernail tapped on the walnut trim in time to the music of a Russian jazz trio as she enjoyed the majestic scenery through tinted windows. In its place was a metal contraption, about waist height, with what appeared to be a series of arms. I kept up the kissing, and my left hand was still cupping her left breast, when I moved my right hand off her right breast, and started sliding it down her stomach. My eyes widened in realization. I grabbed Louise's hips and slowly pulled her up off me, her sloppy pussy releasing my cock which sprang out and smacked wet against my pubes. As she left, I asked Denise how it was going? I felt as though my heart had stopped. It’ll indian also keep her body looking perfect, and probably even improve it.” "But I will pose for you." Her thighs gleamed with her cream. Obviously anxious to get back to her study. Her treat squirted. Concentrate on swimming and your peckers will stay down! And today, I thought about having fun at the brothel, spying on mortals paying for the most wonderful thing in the world. Once her outdoor orgasm completely collage faded, she moved his hand from her mouth and let him pull it back. That’s it boy, punjabi lick daddy’s hole, I said. It was a thin cotton one village that hardly touched my body apart from my shoulder and breasts. About the end of his first year in residence, Maria gave birth to his son, named after him. Newly captured slave couples quickly discovered that when the unidentified "Master's" voice boomed loud and clear over the speakers, it was wiser to obey instead of suffering couple consequences best left unmentioned. Brittany : lol, ok. All I felt was pain.