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He one day brought in his German Sheppard, Ceasar, saying, "If you don't behave yourself, iwill let Ceasar have his way with you." At the end of the s...mmer, he installed a horse, a triangle horse, hangingfrom the ceiling. He took off the belt, took out the didlo and butt-plug, and chained me to the horse, he told methat the upcoming school year would be different. I was to wear the collar to school, i was to pierce my nipplespussy lips, and i was to ride in a special seat in the car. It was a. "I was sort of hoping he'd spare you the gallery tour."It was true that the hanging portraits in the hallway and in the Parkers' bedroom could have been subtly ignored, and perhaps Tad and I wouldn't have gotten a look at them. But we'd seen Louise already in the altogether in the spectacular over-the-couch portrait, and now Don proudly showed us the others. The hallway picture was somewhat smaller, and in it Louise was lying on her side, away from the camera, with her voluptuous little bottom. Havingalready made arrangements to spend the weekend in El Paso with her latest toy boy she hadagreed to stop on the way to make a collection on her way from Fortworth.Hertravelling companion was Julie Fleming, 36 years old and also divorced. She hadjoined the agency two months previous. The women had gelled at once, throughtheir mutual problematic divorces, their love of similar music and both havinga perchant for well hung toy boys. Her cousin livedin ElPaso, so it made sense to share the job. Tracy was an old friend of Nick’s Mom and she insisted it was the least she could do. She had plenty of room and neither she nor her two daughters would mind having him as a house-guest.As he stepped up to the doorstep of the large house with his bags, and heard the cab pull away, he smiled and tingled with excitement, thinking about the days and possibilities that awaited.A few moment after he pressed the doorbell, the door opened and there she was – Tracy Burnwell, one of the hottest MILFs on.
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Though her thoughts raged, her lip trembled. She knew she couldnt fight back, he had killed an angel, a powerful, holy messenger, without even touchin... him, and he enjoyed it. And, even if she did manage to escape, where would she go? She hugged herself and cried. Everything was hopeless. Her nose began to run, dripping wet, tickly mucus down to her lip. Desperately looking around for a tissue, she noticed the rag on the nightstand that Izial had left. Her fingers clasped around the fabric, now. Silmaria knew that, curled in Rael’s arms, she would make it through another day, even frightful and dangerous as they’d become. Rael was already close to sleep, holding her close in his warm embrace, one big hand resting on the small of her back as she curled to his side. His breathing was slowing into the relaxed rhythm of rest. Silmaria soaked in his warmth, drawn and lulled by it the same way she was drawn and lulled by the warmth of the fire. She began to drift, secure against Rael’s. More

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