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” Anna stepped to the foot of the bed. He was not a sailor. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. Well, let him be honest. " "Don't worry about that. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 29-05-2024 12:00:31
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