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Picnics, shopping, board games and television occupied a significant portion of their time. Cathy still wished she could find some use for her profess...onal skills, but with money no object and Dahlgrin filling her nights, she no longer had the burning desire to pursue a career. She did occasional sketches and finally began painting in water colors. But even the satisfaction of creating the beautiful landscapes which seemed to be her fort, paled when compared to the absolute ecstasy she was. Then, the click of my seatbelt, the revving of the engine, and the crunch of gravel as I pulled into her driveway. The door opened into the dim depths of her kitchen. Ahead of me, she turned. The hungry physical fire flickered and then went out, replaced by the cool calm of control. I thought I had outrun reason, but damn if it did not catch up with me. “Drink?” “Sure.” “Vodka?” “Do you have tea?” “Y-yeah, tea... Yup.” The silence was painful and long as she poured the tea for me, three fingers. She also discovered at the start of her life that she probably wouldn’t be able to be a normal woman. Hence the depression, the self-loathing, the way she subconsciously wanted to suffer. She was broken, and that’s what made her so unique. Now, inside her sensitive, romantic head, she was probably letting me know that if our relationship progressed from this, she would never be able to bear me children without a series of complications. I felt sorry for her, but I also felt excited.“My love,” I. It took another few minutes before Mrs. Fathima emerged from the bathroom with just the towel covering her body from half of her huge tits till just below her waist, enough to hide her womanhood. She strode straight to the door, closed it, latched it up and proceeded towards the mirror. Her hair hasn’t gone as short I had thought as, once she loosened it, it came well below her shoulders. My eyes widened as she flipped off the towel from her body and stood naked in front of the mirror. Although.
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