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“Well I know you’ll love this,” I said sitting her up against the couch and dipping my face into the pussy I’ve come to know and love.“Oh ba...y, yes, eat my pussy! Oh Randy, right there, oh god yes!”Over the last two months I had to have eaten her pussy a hundred times and I never get tired of it, just as well as her sucking me off. I guess when you love someone as much as we love each other its hard to keep your hands off them. I pulled the hood back from her clit and tickled it with my nose as. .. her Tommy, he was still so innocent. So unready for the evils of the world. He was like his father that way. Always believing the best of others. Always ready to help out. That was what had taken her Ron out on that rainy night, 12 years ago. It was dark and a light drizzle was falling. Ron got a call from his brother Dean. Dean's car wouldn't start and he needed to get something for his son's cold. Could Ron give him a ride to the ReXall? Of course Ron went. It's funny how the mind can see. ’ The old guys looked at me. ‘What’s the best beer in this place?’ They looked at each other. ‘Beamish,’ said one. ‘I prefer Murphy’s,’ said the other. The girl returned. ‘I guess I’ll just have a Guinness please.’ ‘Right you are,’ she said. She poured it and set it down in front of me, and later she brought my burger and I ate it without really paying attention. But I felt better with protein and beer in my belly, and I got to be more optimistic about Anna. I had been getting kind of fevered,. Fancy name, right? Well, even though my name is Lucky, life was a bitch to me. I lost my mom at a young age, so I don’t know what a mother’s love is.Soon after my mom passed away, my father got remarried. Soon after that, they were blessed with a baby girl. My new stepmom didn’t like me much, so my dad asked me if I could move out. My father was heavily loaded, so money was never an issue for our family. My father purchased a 4.5 BHK duplex for me and asked me to move there. Every month he will.
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Yet, as I studied her, I recognize that the aching was mine. It wasn’t apparent in her appearance. Surely, it was there, I reasoned. My own pain for...her, my empathetic reaction to her nearness testified to its presence. Yet, perhaps my agony came from a different source. Surely not, old man, I argued internally. “What do you intend to do?” I asked, half afraid of the answer she would give. She picked up the bottle from the table. “I intend,” she said, with just the tiniest bit of a slur. Eleanor’s aching fingers stitched gold flowers on the heavy white cloth. Her brow dampened with sweat as her arms grew heavy under the strain of creating small flowers. She dropped the soft fabric to the floor, her tired eyes gazed at the moon in a starless night. She smiled slightly when she heard her father working in the mill. She knew that her father was a good man. Her mother’s death destroyed the balance in his soul. A large tankard of ale seemed to ease his pain. He forgot his purpose in. More

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