” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench. He reached over and took her hand. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. She had always wondered when they would start being able to trace her kills, with their expanding systems of criminal databases and computers, and now it was starting to happen. The likeness was ridiculous. She must not show anything.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 06-07-2024 06:24:00
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