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DMITRI The yacht had passed indian through the straits overnight and cruised without incident to a small fishing village on the coast of South Circessya. Swaggering abreks had met them at the newly-built jetty and soon it was clear how much respect Dmitri still commanded in this war-torn backwater. Their helicopter flight over the mountain border to the old convent was undoubtedly tracked by all the interested intelligence services from north and west – and each undoubtedly dismissed it as harmless smuggling. This suited Dmitri perfectly, however much the ongoing communal strife saddened him. Carissa had spent the whole voyage stripped naked, observed from time to time by smirking fishermen. She had held her head high, perversely proud of her subjugated position amongst the men. One afternoon she had been down on her belly sucking at Grigori’s toes when a coastguard launch from one of the unrecognised statelets drew up beside them, hard-faced men in aviator sunglasses watching them from the deckhouse. They remained alongside for several minutes, laughing and joking amongst themselves. Grigori identified them as Alaniyan separatists who had shown benign neglect towards some of his cross-border enterprises and he had ordered her to show herself to them. As she rolled on the decking, legs splayed, churning her tongue lasciviously around his feet she had been overwhelmed with a sensation of submission and eager humiliation, revelling in how cheap and low she had become. But I don’t care. “This feels familiar; I wonder where have I felt this before?” She said wistfully. Her tongue swirled about my cock, cleaning the other MILF's juices off. Fall back. "Not for a very, VERY long while, Harry," I could see by the amused twinkle in her eyes she was enjoying my little attempts indian to pry something out of her, "Since I arrived here� the only definite thing they now know is that time travel is possible. I could not have turned redder. He got out the remote vibe and held it up. An involuntary one of readiness and desire. While she didn’t rip my shirt off, there was some forcefulness to disrobing me. Their tender moment was short lived, as Ben was not totally finished with Kitten. Before she could finish her sentence, Vera’s hips bucked forward as far as they would go, her pulsing dick pushing all the way into Teresa’s snatch; their pelvic bones pressing against each other. She then told the girl to bring her a cock. She walks over feeling fucked and dirty. Rubbing my eyes with my hands I let out a yawn, “Sorry dad. Again, I placed it back, firmly this time.