The flush deck was without wells. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. Darrell. Down that on the right the young culprit was dragged—along that on the left a fainting woman was borne in the arms of several females. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjE1NS4yMTYgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDAxOjUwOjE0IC0gMTYxNDAzNDYxOQ==
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