I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. Like a trollop in heat. Teddy overtook her, a little out of breath, his innocent face flushed, his straw-colored hair disordered. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 07-06-2024 13:48:44
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