‘Tommy and I were kids. Neither of us had much empathy. I was different and I don’t think he knew how to handle me. To be honest, I didn’t know ...ow to handle myself at that time. I wrote those poems and gave them to him without thinking how he and his friends would react. I was impulsive and infatuated. Even if he did enjoy the attention, it was probably too much for him.’ ‘I still don’t understand why he would still have them if he didn’t actually care about you. Perhaps if he had said. She sat there panting, her breast heaving under her soiledblouse, intermittently looking at his cock, and back up at hisface. Her fist still gripped his cock and remained somewhat inmotion, pumping erratically, trying to make him shoot more. Butit was all over. Panting, Mike looked down, gazing in awe at whatshe made him do. He looked at his freshly shot jit dripping fromher jacking hand and her beautiful, panting face, and he moanedanew."Oooooo, beautiful," Donna murmured, his cock drooping. More

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