I'm still at the party at Marcela Campos' house, and the kisses are only getting hotter. The giantess and her seven lesbian friends have shed every bit of shyness from Part 1. Now the kisses are deeper, longer and wetter, tongues out, red nails on cheeks, pairs curling up on the white bed, passing from one mouth to the next as if nobody can decide who to taste first. Marcela reigns over it all, pulling each guest close for her turn. The craving that started the night is nowhere near satisfied. I stay until the very last kiss.

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