The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. She confided in me yesterday.
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This video was uploaded to pornotravesti.net on 09-07-2024 10:15:23
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