She crushed the letter in her hand. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. But your cracked skull is by no means a pleasing spectacle.
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This video was uploaded to pornotravesti.net on 05-07-2024 18:53:59
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