Nor the cart of tonics -one for every ailment known to man- as it rattled across the street. Her eyes were focused on the truck parked two blocks down... She knew every corner of it by heart -the bed lined with scratched wood and filaments of hay, its taught leather seats, the smell of his tobacco that lingered even though the cabin was open to the air. Her heels clicked unsteadily on the already rocky pavement, but she did not slow down. She could not. Instead, she clutched her satchel to her. The only i couldn't understand was, that i couldn't masturbate and i was so horny all the time. After some days i was more aggressive to my stepmother and she did something to me, what she never did all the time. She played with her hand at my back and slapped on it more and more harder. i liked it and was more horny as before, so that i provoked it from time to time. One day she looked at me and meant that it is time for release. She came with a special slip to me in my room."So this a gift. More

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