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Her hands danced over me as she moved to get a better angle of attack. I loved those hands. Sometimes hard and firm, demanding, authoritative, impossible to resist, and sometimes they were gentle, caressing, floating over me like a sensual hovercraft. She had a talent for guiding me where she needed me to be.

She rarely messed up, but there were some times when something happened and she lost me for a bit. But she always found her way back, touching and stroking.

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