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Yet she had drawn herself up and looked almost commanding as she pointed at the now softly-mewling foetally-curled slut behind her and shook her head ...adly. She brought both hands together in a prayer-like gesture and then made an unmistakable plea, one hand gesturing back at the sobbing Thirty-Two whilst the second hand traced a long slow line right across across her own throat before she once more brought them both back together in the supplicatory prayer gesture. I had already considered. As I came down the stairs, I noticed a small wet spot on the wooden stairs. That must have been where Mrs. Thompson sat and watched us buttfuck each other all night. She had a view of the whole basement, but the corner rested at such an angle, we couldn't see her at all. As I came down the stairs, a thought occured to me as I saw the scene in front of me; "It's amazing how well Mrs. Thompson knows her son." There was Jake, fucking away at Toms sleeping asshole. I take off my soiled shorts, and. More

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