The wind blew a branch from their home across the frosted pane the young girl gazed out of, into her misperceptions. The tree’s extremity flew acros..., scratching and bloomless, hopeless, making imperfect ellipses in perfect step with the tenacious volition of the cyclic gale. Should one of the poor birds have fallen, they would have died in the snow, unaccounted, while individual feather hairs stuck to one another, inseparable even to God. Denise sponged her knees and breasts. If numbness were. .." I stop talking as the cock enters my mouth. My tongue is going around as it finds itself deep in my throat I gag a little bit. I don't like blow jobs. I avoid them, but I fight the urge to gag. I get his dick in my hands and lick it for a long time. He stands up and pulls me down on my little red sofa. He is on top of me. I wonder if he will kill me with a pillow and leave and it will be all over the news that "Miss Star dies having sex with client." When he is inside me I realize I forgot. More

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