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Once Angie and I went to a cabin on a beach along the southern coast of Washington state. It was a lovely little cottage of a house, with tall french doors and translucent curtains that swayed with the breeze. It was summer, and at least warm enough to open a few of the doors and being in house naked, between eating and sex. Our days went like this: wake up, make slow mornign love, fix some eggs and coffee, take her from behind while she did the dishes, take a shower, and take her again, read a book, and watch her naked, stretch and do her daily yoga.

As Angie posed, bent backwards, her tiny breasts fell back into her chest. I could clearly see her thicket of hair. She kept the sides trimmed, but let the center grow out, like a skinny hedge. It almost completely hid her lips. I woudl have to wiggle my fingers or tongue to penetrate the ticket,but when I did, she was already wet, soaking in fact, and ready for me to push inside her again.

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