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“What’s the matter, Creampuff? Hasn’t a guy ever seen your panties before?” Diondre’s brows arched as he chuckled, only infuriating Samantha more as she shouldered past him to move closer to her bedroom. “No, as a matter of fact… Nobody has.” Her response was quiet, so low he almost didn’t hear it, and he blinked after her in surprise, just staring at her door as it clicked shut. Inside the peaceful quiet of her room, she leaned against the door, blinking at the tears that she refused to let fall. Nobody had ever made her feel so bad about being a virgin before, and yet Diondre made her blush and make quiet admissions about things that she didn’t have any intentions to share. Damn him! She threw her clothes at the laundry basket, and growled when they all slammed into the front, scattering around it rather that inside of it. She bent to scoop them up, and glared at the offending panties that fell from the neckline of her robe, and shoved the entire lot deep into the hamper. Her. Both of us felt happy. My mom called my dad and a few relatives on the phone to share the news. After a while, she made gulab jamun and served it for me while I was busy playing GTA on my laptop. She said that she will go give some gulab jamuns to Sharif. Then she went upstairs to the penthouse. Little did I know that she would give him a lot more than just gulab jamun.I was busy playing my game, and my mom’s phone on the table beside me vibrated continuously. It irritated me, and I checked her phone. My relatives called her. I thought she will come and answer it. But later, it vibrated again.I just decided to go give my mom’s phone to her. So, I headed upstairs. My footsteps slowed down after I heard a few giggles and laughs from the terrace. It was my mom and Sharif. As I went forward, I heard the penthouse doors slam close and being locked.I was tensed about my mom, but all I could hear was her low giggles and laughs. I slowly went up and tiptoed to the room’s windows to see what’s.
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" Paul," the young man said, reaching out a hand at the end of his skinny bare arm and shaking hers in an unpractised way. "Pleased to meet you, like." Are you here on holiday by yourself?" Naw! But me mates are in the hotel room still. They've both got the trots. It's like Delhi Belly, only this being Morocco and all I guess you have to call it something else. It was the bloody couscous and stuff we had in the restaurant last night." But you've not got the same problem?" remarked Marla. Her English was always very good, but she had difficulty understanding much more than half of what Paul was saying. She surmised that Paul's friends must have eaten something that disagreed with them."Well, yeah! I'm a vegetarian, like, so I didn't have none of the chicken and mutton and stuff. You don't get the trots from vegetables mostly." Vegetarian?"This seemed most unlikely. Most of Marla's vegetarian friends dressed in ways that proclaimed their social conscience that was totally unlike this.

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