He wasn’t a rock star. He was just another schmuck.Another working stiff. Another cog in the machine.He knew numbers, balance sheets, stock prices, ...nd he saw himself as just a statistic, as stockholder value and profit. He wasn’t awesome. He wasn’t kicking ass. He wasn’t on TV. He wasn’t having the fun he knew he could be having if he were playing packed arenas, rocking city after city, touring the world, flying high and riding on steel horses. He’d imagined his life would be like a Bon Jovi. How can he love me after what I've done?" What that spauleen, Stafford, did _to_ ye, don't ye mean?" No... I... he - oh, Lord, Molly, Cap'll hate me." That ain't true, neither. Ye just wait till he gets back fromPrescott." I hope he never gets back, and... and if he does, I'll just stay uphere, so I can't see his face when he finds out, so I won't see thedisgust in his eyes." There won't be none of that in his eyes - not for ye, at least, thoughI wouldn't want t'be Stafford when Cap finds out.. "Man, she's got a fine ass," Damon said, "And that pussy hair....mmmm....I love that hairy pussy."Damon took a knife, sliced off Rose's bikini bottom and pulled out his dick once again from his pants. It was stiff and slippery from Rose's sucking. "It's going it deep," Damon taunted her and me, and she began crying again. And with a couple of thrusts, Damon Hathcock's rod was inside my wife's vagina, and he enjoyed it. His anger toward me was channelled into every powerful pump of his dick. “Nice view.”“Yeah,” she said, looking out over the patch of garden in front of them. “It is a nice view. Quiet, too.”“Beautiful,” he said. She glanced at him and found him looking at her. She blushed and turned away quickly. He laughed softly. “Sorry,” he said.“It’s okay,” she told him.“I shouldn’t say things like that too you,” he said.“Because I’m not beautiful and you’re lying?” she asked.He chuckled again. “No,” he said. “Because we’re cousins.”“It’s okay to think I’m beautiful,”.
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