Fucking Lydia.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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In a swift motion, Theodore started to undress, flinging his clothing one by one his eyes firm on his wife's delectable body.

He crosses the room and stands right in front of her. A solid wall of muscle, confidence, and sex.

It was as though he had some kind of magnetic field around him.

His presence is unavoidable.

Once Lydia is in his orbit, she can't seem to think straight.

Lydia felt like somebody else, she didn't even recognize her body anymore.

Her pussy developed a mind of her own and slowly it started to clench.

He is so full of potent, raw sexuality and masculinity. Everything about him at that moment screamed to run away, but Lydia was drawn to him anyway.

"What do you want Gooseberry?" He whispered into her ears as he ran his nose along the column of her throat.