Janice was powerless to resist. His eyes burned into hers like garnets. His muscular arms enfolded her body as she felt herself being swept away in a force 10 gale of passion. Slowly, she fell to her knees and unzipped Giuseppe's breeches and went at his cock like a dog eating hot chips.
After what seemed like hours Giuseppe realised he was over-revving the spunk engines without releasing the horse's handbrake until spat his plaster into her tophat.
'You may be knocking on a bit, love, but your granny's oysters are frothing like a shaken bottle of Shandy Bass. Turn yourself over and Iâll lay a cuckoo's egg into your tromboneâ. Janice responded and was up for a bit of POTTY BARKING so after eight pints of stout and a bar of Bourneville he shouted deep into her anus "I love fishcakes!!!'
Janice had been well and truly Potty Barked. It was love.
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