I am not empty. My cunt is filled, and the pulse inside, shifts, and I watch the skull emerge, more horrible than the dream, but then I know it’s a ...elusion. I am intact. My water has not leaked. Perhaps when I die I will have another movie to live. I stop, hold my voice back, and then resume sensing how the vibration of my throat and the calm flutter inside when I tense, release, clasp, and then push open, extending diaphragm, as if that helped, to relax my arse, and push the veil out, make. She produced a long thin cigar from a humidor on a nearby table and put it to her lips. He trembled as she lit it, took a deep draw and let a wisp a smoke escape from the side of her mouth. "Would you like to fuck your mother?" she asked of him sexily. She turned away from him and backed her exquisite ass up against his hard pole. She took his hands and brought them around to her chest, which he eagerly massaged. She gyrated her hips against him and tossed her hair to one side. "Hmmm? I need a. More

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