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He was only wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt, which he stripped off in an instant as she ripped open the shirt she was wearing with buttons flying everywhere and tossing it to the floor revealing her voluptuous heavy milky white breasts. She crawled on top of him lowering herself down and kissing him with her soft full lips. He places his hands at her waist tilting his head slightly sharing a deep passionate kiss together. She could feel his cock already hard and ready, as was her dripping pussy. Without the need for foreplay she then lowered herself down onto his throbbing hard cock. Closing his eyes he released a moan of ecstasy as he entered her body. Opening his eyes looking up into hers he thrust his cock deep inside her causing her to moan in delight. She then sat completely up allowing herself to lower down completely consuming his cock inside her. She began to ride her new stallion as the flashes of lighting through the window gave proof to her beautiful silhouette. There was an eeriness to the library. A half-dozen old oil-paintings hung on the wall at the end of the room. Maureen glanced around her, noticing the dusty books in their s**ttered cases and the dilapidated, out-of-date furniture ... and the statues.At first glance, they looked like waxworks from some old museum, but on closer examination it was possible to see that the simulated flesh on the figures was soft, smooth rubber. They were so realistic that Maureen had reached out and touched the arm of one of them when her aunt had first shown them to her.“Don’t touch,” the old lady had snapped, rapping her cane on the hardwood floor to emphasize her words. “Never touch the replicas!”There were four of them. One was the image of a stiff, stern-looking man in Edwardian clothes whom Aunt Sylvia had told Maureen was her great-grandfather. Another was a replica of Shakespeare. “Your grandmother was a great reader,” said Aunt Sylvia, “a great admirer of the Bard.”The third statue was of Henry.
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