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She is my only family. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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This video was uploaded to sexmovies.mobi on 05-07-2024 10:42:31
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