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Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. “Well?” he asked her tersely.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 22:55:04