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World Of Sex

There was a soft slap of fabric as Marc removed his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, fabric hitting leather, his hands unbuttoning and rolling back his sleeves. I watch his hands, avoiding his eyes, my cheeks warming, bashfulness overtaking me.

“Nervous?” His voice was quiet, a tinge of playfulness in their tone.

I looked up, meeting those dark depths. “A little.”

“Don’t be. I play nicely. Plus,” he said, looking over to Brad with a smile, “I’m scared of the big guy.”

“As you should be,” Brad spoke from underneath me, settled back down on the couch, his eyes on me, his hands running over my skin, over my breasts, rough then soft, perfect patterns that kept my nipples hard and my cunt wet. “She is my everything.” I smiled, looking down on him, his mouth tilting up, asking for, then receiving, a kiss. Damn. So much for that game plan. But I couldn’t stay away from his mouth. It fit too perfectly on my own.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the man move. Walk to the bar, fix a drink
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