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Drawing the fluids out as I press further in. Slowly, ever so slowly. You breathe, sweat beading on your brow. You want to speak, but that would break...the spell you're under. You drop your right hand to mine, trying to push my finger in deeper to satisfy that craving, that urge, that need to be filled. "Tell me, my dear," I whisper in your ear, "what is it you wish?" All you can do is moan and push your sweet ass back against me, pressing my member further between your cheeks. Swaying your hips. But she could not figure out his behavior. She had tried every tactic to win him over, and the full range of emotions she had used so successfully on Chris and the other boys she wound around her little finger, but Julio seemed immune to her charms. She knew it couldn't be so -- she drew considerable attention at La Jacaranda, where she did her portrait sketches for three hours each night. And as she guessed, Senor Valdez couldn't keep her hands off her. She was subjected to frequent ass-pats. ‘Call me Charlotte dear.’ Charlotte talked too much and her husband Philip, who looked to be approaching forty, around five years younger that Charlotte, totally ignored Tina apart from saying hi when introduced. That really annoyed Tina. On Sunday afternoon when Tina’s first guests, her parents, had left she answered the door knock. There stood Philip Boswell looking reasonable suave and holding up a bottle of wine. ‘May I come in and assist to drink this?’ Tina thought about saying no but. Possibly it was one of those flukes that happen to people when they least expect it. More than likely, it was a combination of the two. But the best guess was that it was something he did that he shouldn’t have, or should have don that he didn’t. Either way, there was a blinding flash of blue light, the smell of charred skin in the air, and Hal toppled from the pole, his fall broken by the shrubs growing at its base.It was only because one of the many passers-by had the wherewithal to call.
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