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She’s still alive. She has to be. “Take me there.” I said, pointing with my remaining forefinger, “That’s far away.” WILLOWBUD Down, down, down, I dug, the earth crumbling before me and reforming behind me, my breaths shallow and hot, my heart thundering in my ears. I just needed to go deeper. She couldn’t find me down here. The confined space was making breathing difficult, so I shot my arms forward, and an immense tunnel was created before me. I rested my back against the wall behind me, and propelled it forward, moving so fast that my lips peeled back, and my cheeks flapped. Though I was not exerting myself, I was getting tired. My reservoir of power was dwindling with every deific action I took, making me weaker, indian bhabhi devar and slower. Julia couldn’t chase me forever; I could outlast her. I hoped. I accelerated, pouring everything into going faster, further, deeper. My body was numb, my extremities were cold, my heartbeat was slowing even as my panic grew. Just a little longer. Just a little longer, and I’d be safe. She wouldn’t find me. She couldn’t. I drained myself until my head was throbbing, my mouth was dry, and my heart drummed at sluggish, off-beat cadence, then I dropped limply to the cold stone. My gasping breath echoed in the darkness, accompanied by the soft drip of water. Drip, drip, drip. I tried to match my breathing to the rhythm of the sound, tried to pull air into my hungry lungs, and push blood into my starving limbs. Drip, breathe, drip, breathe. It was an oddly soothing coupling of sounds. It brought my mind into focus, and set my heart into a slow, but steady beat. Drip, breathe, drip, breathe, drip, breathe, drip, sizzle. “No.” I whispered, “Impossible.” Drip, sizzle, drip, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. The comforting Indian Hardcore Fucked darkness slowly peeled away. The rock above me was brightening, turning red, then desi indian mom son purple, the sapphire. The molten south indian ass stone dripped from the center of the illumination, pooling a yard away from me, running like molasses. Little toes emerged from the melted ceiling, then feet, the calves, thighs, penis, pelvis, belly, breasts, neck, chin, mouth, nose, eyes. I wanted to scramble away, I wanted to dive deeper into the rock, but I had nothing left in me. She dropped before me, her bare feet splashing the molten rock from its pool, speckling my limp form with scalding heat. I only groaned. “How?” I hissed. “I see through flame like you see through rock.” Julia sat cross-legged beside me, and brushed her fingers across my lower back, where her brand raised the skin, “You Black India still have my fire in you. On the surface you’re invisible to me, but down here, where the sun has never touched the stone, you are a candle in the dark.” I massaged it gently. "I can't wait." Her pussy was contracting and releasing. It is desi indian mom son OK to have fantasies, but turning a fantasy into reality can destroy lives. He shivered a little, found the door handle and began to fidget with it. John was overwhelmed by her genuine concern for his health. Black India Being naughty like that…… We should actually go to mom and dad’s and do it there.” she said, then laughed. I’m already getting close.” Julie's voice suddenly hardened, her words cracking like the sting of a whip, "Now young lady, you have Indian Hardcore south indian ass Fucked a choice. “Ahhh!” I gasped as I feels my ass cheeks jiggles hard. I began to indian bhabhi devar lick her outer lips. She asked me how I felt about Ali, I replied I felt exactly the same...

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