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And it has gotten me out of more trouble than I can tell you. You know the argument about nature versus nurture? My crying is all nature: I was born with it. My dad didn’t see any of this coming and he didn’t react quickly enough to block me from reaching his lap, and so there I landed. Crying and crying and crying, cry-talking my way through a cooked-up explanation about a fight with Bennett (that didn’t happen), and about being around his drunk friends (which, naturally, included me, though I refrained from sharing that tidbit). And then, I tried to incorporate at least a little truth, about how my girlfriends had all abandoned me, and about me being so lonely, so very, very lonely, and I could sense this new information, the pseudo-truthful one, was getting through to him. How did I know this? Because he was listening, and not yelling. I was finding some footing. Maybe what they say about the truth setting you free is, well, true.It is at this specific point that the arc of my. Anne could smell her sex now, a musky, primal odor that made her want to fuck. Desiree ground her cunt onto Matt's fingers as he drove them deep into her. Anne looked into his eyes. Matt could see the lust on her face and pulled his three fingers out of Desiree. As he moved his hand towards Anne, she opened her mouth and greedily accepted them, sucking her first taste of pussy off of them. It was a musky smell that assaulted her senses and simultaneously heightened her arousal. Anne really wanted to fuck now. Matt withdrew his fingers and shoved them back into Desiree, making her groan with pleasure, knowing that something very dirty was unfolding. It was then that Matt put his fingers in Anne's mouth again, and she savored the taste of Desiree's arousal which heightened her own."Now that didn't happen, Dave!" She said as she looked over the papers at him. I have never been with another woman." It's just a story, Anne. Don't you like it?" he asked, watching her continue to play with.
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