Over centuries of the Diaspora. In that century, though, Jews had very brown skin and curly hair,” the spirit observed.“Oh, my God ... you ARE the...Devil? Who else would lie to us about Jesus?” Gordon covered up his ears, but the spirit then made him bleed from them.“What ... the ... actual... ?” Sheila screamed as Gordon simply keeled over with a stroke.“Cerebral hemorrhage. Literally, a brain bleed. Your hubby’s dead as a doornail now. I did him a favor, actually. I don’t usually kill people. She was riding my cock with immense pleasure moaning like she enjoyed at her peaks.Mom: “Oooooh aaahhhh em undhe ra ne moda na raja swargam lo unatu unde raa Aaaaaaaahh” (Ooooh aaahhh your cock feels so good my son, I am in heaven ooohhh son Aaaaahh)Me: “Chala baga dengutunav amma uuuummmm inka fast ga dengu na modane ne gulla tirchukova ne kodukune denge” (You are riding me very well mom plzzz uuuummmm hump me faster plzzz fuck me fast and satisfy your urges by fucking your own son. Your son. Frustrated by his inability to talk to the beautiful woman before he slunk into the nearby restaurant for dinner, alone. Chapter 3 Christelle carefully examined herself in the full-length mirror in the wardrobe door of her very comfy bure. The tight-fitting dress, with short sleeves and orange segment-shaped cut-outs revealed her tanned shoulders, emphasised her curvaceous breasts. The thigh-high hemline barely covered her tight butt and showed her long slender legs. She chose her favourite. (S)he felt Mistress' hands on her bare shoulders, her uniformwas gone. One white-laced glove slowly caressed her...Her what? Maidcould not think of the word. Maid could not think of any word. Maidcould not think. Mistress was whispering sweetness in Maid's ear. Shecould feel warm, moist breath, the gentle massaging of Mistress' hands,and the satin kiss of the glove on her...The sweetness became thoughts.Of course. Maids need thoughts put in them by their Mistresses. Maid-brains are empty..
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"... POLICEWOMEN ARE SUCH SLUTS!" Cindy purred, undoing a third button of the writhing policewoman's blouse. "I'M GOING TO 'FUCK' YOU, SARGE!" PLEASE
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