#92721 - His mouth hung open still gasping for air his ribs were a set of viscous red whelks that hadn’t had time to become bruises and the was a lump a little smaller than an egg just below his right eye, his war paint was smeared and faded with sweat. His body kept move and he fell down flat from some height and I made sure he didn’t get back up. Soon her moans of pleasure went to whimpers of frustration, she stop one sort of begging but she was close to it.
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