” She muttered some unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret additions. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. She repeated this breathlessly. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath.
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This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 16-06-2024 00:04:36
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