Indian Woman Fuck With Delivery Boy

He was quite sure he hadn't taken the first left to crazy town, but here he was, in Alex's house, standing across from Alex's brilliant niece, who was asking him to administer punishment. "One spilled cup, on the floor but not on the rug. That's eight with the belt, twelve with the cane, eighteen with the hand, bare and standing, or twenty-one with the hand, over the knee with panties on. Which one do you think will best teach me my lesson, Johnathan, Sir?" "This is insane. I can't punish you!" "Please. I can't move before I'm corrected." "Stop it, this is ridiculous, you don't have to be corrected." "But I must be punished. Please let me assume the position." "The position, what the devil are you talking about?" "Sit down, Johnathan, Sir, I'll show you." Utterly perplexed, Johnathan dropped back onto the sofa, doing what Dora was telling him to. Dora was standing right in front of him, and he was looking right at her breasts, which were quite the specimens indeed. Full, round, firm. “There’s some cool stuff in here,” he said pulling out an old looking book titled Magic for White Witches. He flipped through it and snorted. “Nevermind, it’s just some new age crap,” he said, showing some decidedly new looking text within it about finding your inner woman. He pulled out a couple more and went to his desk to price them. Clara grabbed some more and looked through it. After sorting through the books in silence for a while, she pulled out a small, unmarked, leather bound book. She opened it and realized it was a notebook. Some pages were ripped out, what was left was blank, lined paper. “Hey, Andy?” He looked up. “The guy said he didn’t want anything back, can I keep this? It’s a notebook.” Clara held it up. “Sure,” he said, disinterestedly before returning to his work. Clara finally left as it got dark, the notebook in her bag as she walked home. Her house was a basic, suburban home that she shared with her father and older brother, Nick, who went to the local.
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