In the hushed living room of a plush apartment in Neuilly, Candy Scott enters, a pleated skirt and a still candid look. CEL is waiting for him, imposing, shirt half-open, a carnivorous smile on his lips. Without preamble, he grabs her by the waist and presses her against the impeccably stretched cream wall. His mouth crashes into his, possessive, demanding, extracting a surprised moan from the young woman. With one firm hand he lifts her skirt, the other slips under her panties, impatient and precise. Candy gasps, her cheeks on fire, her legs trembling under the calculated onslaught of her expert fingers. He turns her over with a sharp gesture, leans her over the back of the leather sofa, and nibbles on her exposed neck. Each powerful thrust of her loins makes her scream louder, her innocence dissolving into a and new greed Soon she pushes against him, pleading, transformed into a hungry creature scratching the fabric. Candy whispers in a hoarse voice "Again. »
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