Bozeman pushed himself up from his chair. Stretching his hands over his head, he looked around at my house. I laid, spread eagle at his feet. He turne... to go inside without noticing me. The door slammed again and I smiled to myself for the chance I took. Still not satisfied, I stood and took the shirt in my hand. What else could I do? I was becoming addicted to the rush. I wanted more. No cars pass in, unfortunately, so I just walked to the street, shirt in hand. I could hear the television at. She was in good shape, her long blond hair wasn't badly roughed up, you kept her clean which made all the difference and after years of service she still suited certain urges well, still nice and tight with perky bouncing breasts, she had even learned to cooperate a little because she knew a happy master made a safe slave. You had given her little clothes, a two baggy t-shirts that had plenty of stains and a pair of panties. In many ways you had grown fond of her and you sensed that she. More

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