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... on my stomach, exposing it. The zipper of my shorts was undone. With my shorts hanging on my thighs, my legs were still in the same position they had been—resting on him, opened in his direction.
And Donald was standing in front of me, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.
His sudden stop made me feel uneasy. It seemed as if I was always the one who desperately wanted him, and he was always calm and elegant. It was as if we were worlds apart and I’d never entered his worl ...
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