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fantasy story of Naomi Kawashima :
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h the thin bra. His hand cups my other breast,
flicking the tight nipple with his thumb. I lean into him, wanting him.
The bra cup turns transparent with wetness, clinging to me. He blows on
it, making me gasp. His other hand slips under my skirt, moving up my
leg toward my hips. I hold onto his shoulders, vaguely stroking.
He reaches the stocking top. The sudden intake of breath shows his
surprise. "You like?" I ask lazily. I know he does. He kisses me
between my breasts in response, playing with the lace strap of the
garter holding up the stocking. He begins to kiss the dry breast. One
hand on each of my legs, caressing my thighs. I'm too busy feeling to
do much, but I won't let go of him either, my hands stroking his back
and should
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