#60106 - Fill. She took the two remaining bottles of Go-Glide from the dresser and held them up for him to choose: “They’re peach and margarita…” “Neither. To fall forward would be to invite thrusts, to surrender; Maggie leaned back without rest against her brother and felt him nearer his relief – locked upright, his chest muscles and thighs and abdomen as relentlessly hard as was his cock stiff in her ass; his body hair, even, seemed erect – and in the slow pre-count of his dry spasms, she made damp his balls with her first fluids, then shuddered and let go her own warm orgasm as he quietly dumped a flow of liquid heat into her, a sunshine flood of semen up her butt as easy-going as a summer Sunday afternoon.