From Jazz To Jizz free porn video

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I’m no author, and as such you will have to forgive my grammar and prose. I just wanted to share these experiences with you that I had last winter with a girl who came into my life with an explosion of passion and heat where none was looked for.

Extract from my journal, dated 11-11-2009 AM

“……….. Loneliness is a strange creature, does it create as much as it destroys – forcing one’s self to come to terms with your doubts, fears and failures. Is it possible to be reborn through it?

My loneliness was shattered last weekend by a blinding brilliance called ******. In just one night she taught me that I’m something to be cherished not shunned – my soul and body are beautiful. When someone rejects your touch, refuses to caress, to lick, to nibble, to make eye contact you start to believe. But the joy this angle found in me has stirred something long buried. A kind of hope. Self hope. But the wish to cry is strong as the desire for her eager hips and ravishing mind.

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Caught in the act leads to something more Max Jazz

Jazz had become used to being the only woman in her father's life, even though she was barely old enough to be considered a woman at age sixteen. Her mother had left her and her father when she was just five years old to move to Vegas, since then it had been just she and him, their already close relationship becoming even stronger over the years. Jazz was just pulling a steaming hot frozen pizza she had made for dinner out of the oven when he came up-stairs after a long session in his...

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Blame it on mom. She was a jazz freak and I grew up hearing Billy Holiday, Anita O’ Day, June Christie, Ella and Louis, you name it. “The cats,” she called them. She knew all the words and she’d sing to the records, snapping her fingers, looking at herself in the mirror, moving her hips. I remember sitting on the floor, holding the record jackets, looking at the pictures on the front then up at mom singing to herself. She sang when she did dishes or was dusting around the house. I can still...

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Jazzy Girl Ch 4

‘How’d you like to be in a band?’ said the smoky voice on the receiver. I was still dribbling out the last bit semen from an intense orgasm brought about by Julie’s smoldering voice, when I picked up form the machine. ‘Sure.’ I said, wiping myself off with Bonnie’s panties, and forgetting that I’d been working solo for over a year now, and was way out of touch with the whole ‘band dynamic’ thing. ‘What happened to Dean?’ I asked, carefully. ‘Oh screw him.’ she said. ‘We’re practicing...

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‘Your moon is in Taurus. Expect a day like no other.’ said Julie. ‘What?’ I asked, looking up from the crossword, pencil poised. Julie lay on the floor, wearing her standard Sunday afternoon kick-around panties and tank top, her voluptuous body pushing out and filling the raggedy underclothing like cantaloupes under sack cloth, curving and rising, with occasional sharp clefts dipping down into deep feminine valleys. Creamy arms and lush legs lewdly sprang out from tight cotton underwear caves....

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