Her belly was being touched, she felt her thighs caressed softly. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. “Bother it all!” she swore. .
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