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"So, Phyllis, what did you think of our 2 - 2 and 2 - 3 scenes?" I'm really impressed with both of you, regarding how easily you improved everything leading up to those last two scenes of the play. Have either of you had any previous experience doing improvisation?" George responded."I don't know about Karol, since I just met her, but I had a theatre class in college, that taught us how to think outside the scene. We practiced by improvising some classic plot lines, like STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE and THE GLASS MENAGERIE, being asked to move the stories from there traditional locations to somewhere else ... for example, we were asked to improvise DEATH OF A SALESMAN as if it had happened in Las Vegas. It was all very avant-garde at the time. Now I hear a lot of schools, even high schools are getting into improvisation," I said.Karol responded by adding, "I've only done about eighteen plays, compared to Michael's seventy-plus, but I've had a few directors, who taught some improvisation. Then i placed a kiss on her lips and she also started to react for my kiss our tongues met and we tasted our saliva which was so sweet.She then ran to the door and locked it and i closed all the windows then she came close to me and said “take me i am yours enjoy and pleasure me”.I asked her to apply oil on me and stood naked before her she said that “i have seen you naked when you are small but by now you are grown along with your rod”.She started applying oil all over my body and finally she applied oil on my tool and it started to grow wild and she started to suck and blow it and i cum in her mouth and dunked everything.She then threw her saree away and said “apply oil on me”I removed all her dress and for the first time i am watching a women naked and said “chitty you are gorgeous”Then i applied oil all over her body and had het oily boobs on my hand and started massaging it she started to moan by now. She was shining like an angel in that oil coat and my cock grown once again..
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I leaned over the hull and focused on the moving water beneath me. The ocean water was crystal clear and glassy, and I hoped the cool air and change of visual focus would ease my physical distress. It didn’t. “Oh Bob,” I cried. I sloppily made my way to the closest place to sit. “Natty, baby,” Bob returned, his tone higher and more loving than before. He helped me lean back in an overstuffed chair and fanned me with a frilly pillow. He handed me a seasickness pill, Cyclivine, and I quickly swallowed it without liquid. Bob turned and shouted, “Stop the boat, Dave.” Dave, Robert’s friend and the boat’s captain, was a quiet man. He was huge and ruggedly handsome, and basically there to do whatever Bob told him to do. “Yes sir,” his deep gruff voice said from behind a window. I didn’t care for Dave. There was something off about him but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. The pill was a godsend but it made me tired. Before another word was.

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