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Response to my compliment was typical. "Please," she said, turning away and heading for the kitchen. "I look scruffy as usual." Rashida, in my opinion, was a rather high maintenance girl, wearing top of the line clothes and always looking fine. She disagreed, saying she seldom wore jeans and t-shirts and stuff like that because she "wasn't in high school anymore". I, being an electrician, had an excuse for wearing jeans and t-shirts at all times. I sometimes wondered how Rashida and I had hooked up in the first place. I was far from her "type". She typically went for flashy, well-dressed, ...
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Parts. Her lips were so engorged with blood they appeared to have lipstick on them. Mark got down on his knees and cradled her gently in his arms. She wept into his chest. Master and Steve called Sylvia and I to leave the room. The Grandfather clock struck four chimes. We went to the living room and both slaves were instructed to lie on the floor on our backs with our knees in the air. The two Masters sat in chairs that gave them views of both girls spread before them. They sipped champagne as we waited. One-quarter hour chimed, then the second. ...