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My husband was very controlling - we could only fuck once a week with the lights off and he never let me wear slutty clothes or go out with my girlfriends. We divorced when I found him in bed with our neighbours 15 year old son - I never even realised he was actually gay”.By now Emma and gillian were wide awake and sitting half-dressed in the lounge. Annie slapped gillian’s bare thigh, demanding she get up and make them breakfast.Sarah sat, rather primly, smoothing down her skirt, between Emma and Annie. They both explored inside her blouse for conformance with the no-underwear rule: “nice tits, for a straight lady, baby girl - these should take nipple clamps very well”.gillian returned on her knees with their coffees on a tray, spilling some. “Take it back, slut, and serve us properly”. Annie pulled open Emma’s robe, revealing the second sticky feeldoe: “and while you’re down there - suck these cocks clean of your filthy cuntal secretions”.“Yes Mistress, Yes Emma” repeated as. .. and there were a lot ... of sails. The Austin's had sails from Chicago, Sturgeon Bay, Dunedin NZ, Miami, San Francisco and most of them were UK made.Nylon, Mylar, Sunbrella, and canvas in various weights for various situations in various locations. We were going over each seam and component. Nearly all sails have reinforcing lines sewn into the edges. A little something extra to help stop a parting. And all sails have reinforcements built into the places of stress. If there's a halliard attached the place it's attached to is heavily reinforced with multiple layers of fabric and the edges are reinforced with heavier lines inside the seam to redistribute the forces.The Head, the top corner of the sail; the Tack, the bottom forward corner of the sail; the Clew, the bottom aft corner of the sail; the Luff, the forward or leading edge of the sail; the Leech, the aft or trailing edge of the sail; and the Foot the bottom edge of the sail, are all reinforced with sewn in lines. The.
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He knew what Bill said was right, that Malcolm wouldn’t be turning up on the front doorstep or wandering around town looking for real estate. There was no way he’d be allowed near Kit, given their history, and yes, Malcolm would be watched very carefully for a while, to make sure he was ‘coping’ in the outside world. But there was still a part of Kit that hid, small and afraid, in his front yard, minutes after his mother had been killed, and heard Malcolm’s drunken voice shouting his name and swearing that he’d find him. And there was also a part, a grown man now, that wanted to hunt down the cowardly piece of shit that had beaten his mother for so long, who had used her and finally killed her, and make him know what real pain was. ‘Kit, honey?’ There was a soft knock on his door as Maggie spoke. ‘Come in Mags.’ Kit answered, startled from his reverie. He glanced at the clock on his bedside and was surprised to find how much time had passed. It was nearly twelve o’clock. Maggie’s.

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