Hilary Duff & Haylie Duff - Sex Stories

Hilary Duff & Haylie Duff

... reading some book she couldn’t recognize. She strolled down the steps. The room felt different than it had an hour ago. It was almost cold. Hilary walked up to him, and he looked up at her, taking time to study her short black skirt, and white knee socks with the button up blouse that was tied above the naval, and hardly buttoned up at all, flecks of her black satin bra peeking through. She walked up to him as he returned his attention to his book. She stood before him expecting a second look, but didn’t get it. She finally lifted a foot, and set it between his legs. Conrad looked up at her, not hiding his delay on glancing up her skirt to her bare pussy. His eyes met hers, and without an expression from either of them, she lifted her foot, and pushed his chest, pushing him back into the sofa. She put her foot on the floor, and gently lifting her skirt, she stepped closer to him, and slowly brought herself down onto her knees, straddling over his lap. She hung her hands on his strong shoulders, staring down into his eyes as she positioned herself over him, slowly lowering her body onto his lap, feeling his hands gently grab her sides. “This was my first album.” She noted. “I figured so.” He replied staring back into her green globes. She began grinding against him slowly, rolling her head back from one shoulder along to the other. “MMMmmmmm……… I’ve never had a man make me come with his mouth. You are amazing.” She cooed. She felt his hands gently guiding her hips as she ...

... rode slowly over his crotch, rolling her head slowly side to side. His hands left the young woman’s sides, and she felt him slowly unbutton her blouse, pulling it open slowly. He slipped his hand beneath the soft material, and ran his hand over her chest, slipping it up to her collar bone, and slowly following the inside edge of the strap downwards back over her breast, and along the lace edges. Hilary looked down at the leather glove that slide along her tight perky breasts. “WHat happened to your hand?” She asked. She reached up, gently pulling his hand off of her soft skin, and lightly pressed her hand flat against his. “When I was f******n I was fixing a sink at a road side diner that was owned by a black f****y. Some local yokels wandered in, taking a seat in a far back booth. Amy, the owner’s f******n year old daughter. Got up, and went across to tell them they were closed. There were four of them. There were four of them. They jumped her, and wrestled her to the table. Her dad came running, and one of them stabbed him in the chest, and kicked him until he was a lump on the floor. Then kicked him a few more times just because he could. I was behind the counter, and they didn’t seem to know I was there. I took my pipe wrench, and dropped two of them. One of them jumped me from behind. The details got a little fuzzy after that. Somewhere along the fight, Amy bolted. Next thing I knew, I was slammed onto one of the tables, and had a hunting knife stabbed through my hand.” ...