It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. No, this was not reasonable. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Wood in a sharp tone. "Gone," replied the wounded man. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 02-07-2024 10:23:52
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