She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. There is no further hope. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 09-06-2024 06:19:32
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