Hot Blog: VIPCREW VIP CREW were coming from the main bedroom, whose door was ajar. Tiptoeing on holiday bare feet, I tried to still my hammering heart as I moved silently up the passage and looked through the gap. Marge, clad in stockings and suspenders, was leaning over the bed, half slip around her waist, panties in a puddle at her ankles and her breasts hanging from her bra.
Standing behind her, thrusting as though his very life depended on it, one hand cupping a breast, was a grunting Ken Grey, the young stoker who lived in single quarters but paid to eat dinner with the family. The dirty sod, he had stolen one of my fantasies!
But this was so exciting for me. I had never seen people making love before and they were obviously getting a lot of enjoyment out of it, judging by the moans and panting emanating from the pair of them. Marge, in a hoarse whisper, was urging him on: "Ken, faster, faster, fuck, fuck." And Ken obliged, pumping away like the 23-year-old stud that he was.
"I'm coming, coming, yes, yes!" Marge cried as he rode her to what I presumed was a climax (I wasn't that naive) but sounded like she was being murdered. As she collapsed on the bed Ken quickly kneeled beside her and stuck his big cock right into her mouth!
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