”“Oh my God,” I stammered, “what are you doing?”“You’ll see. Brad, you’re first,” said Lisa.Brad lay down on the couch. He removed...his underpants. His penis and testicles sprawled out. He took some massage oil from a bottle. With his eyes on me, he began to stroke the penis. It slowly began to swell and rise.“Brad,” I said, “no. You don’t have to do this.”“I want to,” he said, “we’ve repressed ourselves in this house, pretending that we can’t be open with each other. I love sex. I. " I'm sorry, Bianca," she smirked like a cat who'd just swallowed thelast morsel of a canary, "but are you accusing me of something?"What a strange response. "No, Miss, but the questions aren't aboutthe Revolutionary War." Huh? Well, that's the test I was given, so that's the text you willtake." But, Miss..." Tick-tock, Bianca. When this alarm goes off, I am taking your paper.If you're trying to waste time until the clock runs out, and thenasking for more time, it won't work." No, Miss, I'm. More

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