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A lucky escape. Michelle was laid onto the back seat, her head cradled in Lucy’s lap. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. I don’t want to tear at you with hot, rough hands. Their flitting hands were always touching. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 18-05-2024 16:20:15
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