“He’s a dead duck,” Bob said aloud.Feeling around the man’s pockets, he first found a thumb drive in the shirt pocket. Bob gave it a quick loo... before dropping it in his own shirt pocket. Checking the dead man’s pants’ pockets, Bob found a wallet. Opening it, he found a driver’s license. Comparing the face in the photograph with the body, Bob agreed the permit belonged to the dead guy.Looking around, Bob could see that some of the neighbors were now outside in their yards, keeping a safe. "Shh. Keep... your voice down," I mimicked her, but very poorly as I said it through my own grunting and sighing. I shot six more strings of cum after that first one, and my mother looked up at me with my seed in splotches over her face. I didn't know this until later, but she had actually looked directly down at my one-eyed monster on purpose - eager to decorate herself."How's your mother look, Patrick? Like a slut?" Yeah," I said with a chuckle. Jesus christ, this was incredible. And she. More

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