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The Storm on 17-06-2020 15:22:39

Alison chattered, gazing at her pale reflection in the dark window.

The glass pane clouded with moisture. It was stiflingly hot.

George inched closer. He comfortably reclined and put his arm around her shoulders, his touch strangely redolent of a first loves, and smiled into her face as he adjusted an extremely large bulge in his pants.

Alison saw the curved outline of his immense manhood strain against the fabric, reach above his left hip, and practically pop out the waistband of his trousers.

She realized something was changing with her.

It was as if her inviting white skin had discovered its birth right.

She couldn’t compose herself; she wouldn’t remain seated. She could not think straight anymore.

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