And giggled and gurgled on and on, endlessly carving its careworn crease in the face of the earth. And told to her, only to her, its timeless tales of...wants and dreams and ambitious plots, soured and surrounded and washed away. But she had stayed. She and the river. The years ground away. Content, if not happy, she had dwelt alone. Her life became a simple ritual of sameness. The interminable tread of her rocker rungs wore wrinkles in face of her sloping porch. Except for a tiny plot of. Once inside she closes the door I was taken back, to see her in mini skirt which was just below her pussy and her thunder thighs were for my viewing pleasure and at the top her half covered boobs where trying to get out.She told me your people have broken the tiles in my bathroom, while talking she keep smiling by looking at my restless position and the erection which clearly visible to her.I told her to show me the bathroom tile, her flat was actually a duplex inside they have staircase. Told. More

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