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"What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile. Nothing at all. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. I’m not that sort I quite agree.
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This video was uploaded to porndude.biz on 04-07-2024 05:26:05
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