She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. Skin astonishingly clear except for a spray of blackheads on each side of her nose. Such a time that it takes for them to go. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. ” “No, that’s okay. THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism.
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This video was uploaded to ccc999.shop on 07-06-2024 10:55:34
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