Roberto and Fabio, two sins may be enough for me

This story would find its rightful place in the ‘confessions’ section, but it is still a story, and it is also good to warn readers that this is about incest. Know, however, everyone knows that the lines they will read are as if they were those of a diary: the diary of a whore and her bizarre fantasies. In the end, instead, a real diary will appear. But everything has its time, and I don’t want to anticipate anything.

Our bedroom has always been hot: Roberto has always been banging me there, almost every day, for a couple of hours. We have never skimped on games, and it intrigues me to climb to smorzacandela on him, and spread my thighs until I feel his cock in my throat while his hands touch my lush pear-shaped tits that I have, crazy in my long hair and ravens. When I’m on top of my man, I love to feel his hands squeeze my boobs as if they were two tasty sins to flesh out. I love it. If then his big hands also pass on my hips and furrow my ass, and I feel swearing and I feel like a whore in all ways, I undertake a series of orgasms so long and close together that you would not believe it! Roberto and I got married when I was twenty-three, but our bedroom began to get even hotter when I reached the age of thirty-seven. Because? It is easy to say: at that time my son began to invite his first friends over to the house. Not bad, don’t think, it just drove me…