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"This encouragement made me redouble my efforts, and I drove in fast and furious, grunting loudly as I delved further into her clutching cunt.She groaned louder; her climax building as I rammed into her — and then it all went pear shaped."Oh yes, Daddy. Fuck me harder, Daddy. I love it when you fuck me hard."I froze in mid thrust — Daddy? What the fuck was that all about?Rebecca, realising I had stopped in shock, pretended it was my name she called out. "Desi, don't stop. Do it harder, Des, I'm coming, Des ... Oh, Oh Oh."She kept thrusting against my diminishing prick, and had such a head of steam my lack of wood was no barrier to her reaching her orgasm.She came with a shudder and a final shriek.She kissed me, climbed off my now flaccid and shrunken prick, and pulled her skirt down. "You can keep my panties as a souvenir," She said, and handed them to me. I was so flabbergasted at what had occurred I took them, put them in my pocket and thanked her. We continued walking towards her. You really don't want to spend the rest of your life in jail." I ain't spending ten minutes in jail. I'm flying out of here right now in your airplane. I think I'm going to have me some pussy before I leave and you're going to refuel that airplane for me too. Now get out here so I can tie you up."I said one more time, "Do yourself a favor. Put your gun on the floor and sit down. This is an important decision you're about to make. Do it now."The man was getting mad and began raising his gun. I dropped down behind the counter as he fired a round that went high, shattering a window behind me. I shifted my Glock to my left hand and leaned out around the side of the counter. He saw me and was lowering his gun when two of my rounds went into his chest and the third hit his head. His gun went skittering across the floor as he fell."Lisa, turn around, don't look at him. Sandy, please call the police. Do you have a blanket or something I can cover him with? Sorry ladies, I didn't have a.
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Ever since poor Tim had fallen ill, I had been unable to concentrate on anything else, seeking only the comfort afforded me by my best friend Judith. But Gerry was still there, glowering, red-faced, down at me, and when I made a valiant attempt to tell him about Tim, all he could say was, ‘So that poofter brother of yours is more fucking important than being a wife to your husband — is that it?’ ‘You insensitive fucking pig!’ I screamed, finally losing it, and he punched me on the side of the head, sending me crashing across the coffee table, the glass on which shattered into a million pieces. I picked myself up, dazed and groggy, and ran out into the street. Nice Mr Greensmith, from next door, who had obviously heard the commotion, came out of his door. ‘What on earth’s going on?’ he asked, but without waiting for an answer, shepherded me into his front door, and sat me down on his overstuffed sofa. PART ONE A couple of months later, I was living with Judith, in her nice townhouse,.

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