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Grief Gets Me Wet

My poor great gran passed away this week, but the freak apple doesn’t fall far from the freak tree and she’d hate for my puffy eyes to ruin my chances with a sad hunk who needs some consolation sex as much as I do…Now a funeral is no excuse not to look your best. I have to catch the glances of wandering eyes. And man did I ever catch some glances, but there was one glance I locked onto. This man had broad shoulders, a rugged jaw, sad puppy dog eyes and a very expensive overcoat. In my grief I need certain things…a long, hard fuck and maybe a spa day to take my mind off the pain. *sniffle* He was eager to hold me in my time of need, covered my shoulders with his coat to shield me from the rain and he offered to give me a ride. An offer I can’t refuse. His Bentley was so spacious and made for a luxury fucking experience. I just eased the seat back and slid onto his hard-on, grinding my clit into his pubic bone bringing me to an intense orgasm. I collapsed onto his chest and continued to thrust because I just couldn’t get enough. What can I say? I’m such a glutton when I’m sad.


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