My legs, long, blonde hair andmodel's face are my best assets. I think that I could be a leg model. Ipatted myself dry and wound my hair up in a fluff...y, white towel. Iwrapped another around my chest and slipped on a pair of strappy,natural sandals with a 4 inch heel for my first dance around the room.The sandals blend with my light tan and elongate my legs beautifully.They lift my heel and display the slim tendon leading to a calf whichreveals a lot of time on the stairmaster. I was feeling. Almost exclusively.Sort of like the United States was European before it was the United States ... except it never got to be the United States ... it was and is ... America.There were Europeans from every nationality. When they finally settled coast to coast, they elected officials. One for every nationality. The biggest debate was what was going to be the official language. English won over German by one vote.After the second election there was a vote for a national religion. No single. He was so thick, there was never any relief for my throbbing prostate, and I'd always shower his chest with my hot juice as he filled me with his, rubbing his hands over my hard nipples, calling me his pretty baby! I called him Daddy, and would always collapse into his hard cum covered chest, and lick him clean when we were through.Officer Romelle stopped in once or twice a week for a good blowjob, and when he had weekend duty I could always count on a good fucking from his 10" cock. He was. "Akobabae lumaho," Hermione repeated more soberly. "Damn, I wish I had a time tuner."When midnight finally came to Gryffindor Tower, and Hermione hadn't heard a peep from her fellow sixth years in hours, she slipped out of bed, wearing only a tee shirt and white panties, and spoke the words of the spell at full voice. She instantly vanished, and though she cheered wildly at that, she didn't make the slightest sound. "It works!" she fairly screamed. "I finally did it!" For a full minute,.