Instead, she was forced to stock piles and piles of the Fuhrer’s Mein Kampf. Sighing, she fingered through her copy battered of Cyrano de Bergerac. ...Herr Fredrick Ziegler stood at the streetcorner, staring into the small bookshop. He had passed it several times this week and found himself quite taken with the proprietress. She was petite, brunette, and quite pretty. Her bright green eyes always seemed to be roving the pages of some book or observing the streets. It was clear to him that she was. Her body trembled, if this could get her so aroused I figured that motherfucker was a “wam, bam, thank you ma’am” kind of guy, asshole. I caressed the sides of her body, and her belly with the tips of my fingers, sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes had this lustful gaze, and I wondered if her husband had ever seen her like that. I reached her pants and began to unbutton them, without having to ask she lifted her hips so that I could get the pants down… “Así mami relájate” (like that. More

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