#133880 - We were still in the same position, but Paul’s hand had moved; his hand was between my legs, outside of my panties, and he was stroking back and forth, lightly, over the crotch of the panties. So good that I hardly noticed his finger anymore, even though he was still pushing it in. All the while, Paul told me I was a good girl, that I was his beautiful love, every endearment that I had never heard, but needed so badly all these years.
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