I saw the wheels spinning in his head."I never said I was-" No need to. I can see it in you eyes." softly touching my chin, he carefully pulled my hea... up and kissed me. No tongue, no passion. Just pure affection and love. I tried my hardest to fight the tears, but I couldn't."what's wrong?" No-nothing. This is just too much to take in. Two minutes ago you made me scream in pain, and now you are like this." I tried my best to smile."Like what?" He seemed confused. "Gentle and nice. The way you. “What?” she said.“Oh, nothing.”Grace wiped her forehead and drew a deep breath.“You tired?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.“No. Just taking a moment. You?”He shook his head.“Good.” Smirking, Grace ogled the man beneath her: smooth skin, taut muscles, adorable smile. Very good. She shuddered excitedly and her pussy pulsed. This was going to be a long night.*IwanGrace was asleep, sunlight illuminating her pale skin, red hair swirled over her face like tongues of flame. A fiery angel. She rolled. The princess wrote a poem. It quoted him. She breathed his last words. Glancing at me throughout, she saw my pain and my stoic front and it helped her, keeping her tears from choking her. The other eulogizers kept the tears away. We felt too angry to cry.The wake, not planned, but the artists half drunk at the funeral moved to a nearby bar, worsened the memory, and then we relaxed and enjoyed it. Freed from the weight of the religious space, the artists revealed and reveled in their true. She then began to explain that unlike the others, she had to dress for this particular client `Master John’ and had to wear fresh clothes for him each time, that he picked and ordered then paid for then she just collected them from a certain shop that had his account her sizes on file. Pointing she indicated one of the bags she had fetched that afternoon, she had no idea what she was yet to wear, she was to stand for him while he would attach wrist and ankle restraints, then secure her in any.
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