Some incidental / accidental smut in passing couldn’t be resisted. The matter emerged somehow or other. Either before or after the young girl Ruth’s bending for the cat, purring, caressing, she had had her sheer lime green briefs riding up over the top of her jeans. Where was I supposed to look? plumber Georgios defended himself, the raging young bull with a sweet wife at home. In the kitchen later after work, the lad happened to be offered a choice of tea or cranberry juice. Both were declined, as usual. One needed to press G. for any offering thrice at the very least. Unsuccessful on this occasion. However, the latter did raise a comment. Cranberry, hey?… It gives a sweetening to cum, you know. Quite unexpectedly. Oh. Oh. Really? Is that right?… Pineapples was similar, the Cretan added. The tale of the eight-year widow back in Singapore developing her fellatio after her husband had gone to an early grave without, despite numerous requests, failed to draw any interest for the dude. Even the unsweetened brand of the cran produced the effect, it seemed, according to the man. And he wasn’t joking. Well, OK. It would be trialled at the first opportunity back in the Republic, lad was assured; laboratory conditions. We would soon see. In this case, though some of the usual Greek love had been hinted by G, that was clearly confined to only depilated partners. And when the man made his point about the juice there was no suggestion of direct experience, on his own palate, like. Online mention had most likely been his source, as was quickly proved on a simple search. What transpired in the Cretan's matrimonial bed was not here a matter for speculation.
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