The mourning beauty which life in the daytime cries, and stands in the lonely back alley. The body tinged with melancholy is gently caressed as a personal consultation. The breast, which has not been touched by another man since her husband died, gets an erection just by stroking it gently. She makes a moaning sound like a beast and comes instantly when she thrusts her hardened body against it. A mourning widow writhes in between the pleasures of immorality!
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