In a clearing we danced. An undulating tapestry of breasts and butts and cunts. Lost in a trance, we sweated and moaned under the searing eye of our arcane god. Whilst prone in the bushes, the butterfly collector coaxed his mushroom cock and captured our antic sport on a mobile phone. As his string of jizz splashed the grass, he coughed like a fox. Alerted, we split and swiftly traced
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