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A gorgeous brunette with shoulder length hair was dancing with her significant other and a girlfriend (he was tall, had dark hair and an athletic buil..., and the girlfriend had long blonde hair and a very fit body). All three were very attractive and very into one another as they swayed together to the arousing music. As the brunette danced with her back to her man, he had his arms around her and was fondling her breasts with his left hand and stroking her pussy under her skirt with his right. She rolled onto her back, plunging both her fingers into her pussy. She reamed them in and out as I rose.“FUTANARI!” bellowed the yokai.The Daimyo now hung from the ceiling, his body supported like a marionette by shadowy tentacles, twitching as he stared at the bulge in my hakama. My dick ached and throbbed with such a need to cum.“You serve Hangetsu, little miko?”“Kanshu-no-Kami,” I snarled and moved forward.The masturbating woman lunged at me. She grabbed the waistband of my red hakama. She. They taught me to kill without remorse. They turned me to a war machine. A machine with no conscience, no drawbacks. A machine made to follow orders, but mainly kill. Upon the dismissal of the USSR, I was left a man with no knowledge to do anything else other than kill. I lived in the slums of Moscow for not long, since the Mafia noticed me. I had stolen and killed their men in so many ways, that they eventually stopped seeing me as an enemy, but more as an opportunity. So they invited me to. Rina was dead. The police had accused Gerald of raping and strangling her.Tears sprang up in Laura's eyes. But her deep, rending sobs were caught in her chest, and couldn't escape."I... guess I always knew how you felt about her," Karen said, comforting her. "God, honey, I'm sorry."But Laura was desolated by grief. She couldn't even speak. Her supervisor sent her home with his condolences, telling her to take the next two days off. Karen said she would drop by after work.Laura had never had a.
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