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But we made do. As it turned out though, the small bed in the bedroom actually had room enough for three, as long as everyone liked it cozy. Daddy was right of course -- Stacy made an outstanding thai addition to our team, even outside of the bedroom. She became our expert horse wrangler, applying her special talents with great enthusiasm. Often now I would join her, and together we would keep those randy stallions in check, lickity-split. With her on the team, our reputation spread and Parker’s Equine Transport came to be THE go-to choice for wealthy ranch owners throughout the country. In retrospect, Stacy never did ask me about the demo video, or my alleged business as a Hollywood talent agent. I don’t know if Daddy explained to her that that was all just bullshit, or if she had already figured that asian out on her own. Either way, she didn’t hold a grudge. Normally Daddy and I post the horse and girl videos to the internet, just for grins and giggles. But although Stacy’s video was by far the best we had ever seen, we decided to keep it private for now. Maybe I’ll talk to her about it some time, and see if she’s ok with sharing it with the world. And I just remembered that she still owes me the return of those lacy black panties. I think I might just go collect on those right now... END. THE WITCHES OF WESTMOOR WOODS ##### Part 1 - A Walk in the Woods ##### Twas early in the spring of 1809 that she took up residence in the woods near our small and quiet town of Westmoor. We were a small community, reasonably polite, but wary of strangers. It was always “Miss Lendberg” to her face, maintaining the polite social pleasantries in which we all cloak our true emotions. But by early summer, she carried many another name. A witch, some called her, or for a more dramatic flair, “the dark maiden”. Actual facts on the arts she was said to practice in those woods were of course slim, so we supplemented heavily with rumors, speculation, and hushed gossip. These were only whispered of course. A decade into the 19th century, we knew ourselves to be enlightened beyond the primitive fears and superstitions of Salem and other such witch-hunt nonsense. This we told ourselves, emboldened by the light of day, or in the company of others. Alone in the still of the night however, as the wind might rattle a loose shutter on the barn, or some unseen creature may scurry beneath the floorboards, the demons of paranoia hunted a bit closer to the heart, and even the bravest among us would not dare to tread the path through the woods in which she dwelled. What were the crimes of this young woman? None could truly say for sure. Always someone rumored this or that. Why, William Baker had heard -- straight from the friend of his cousin on his mother’s side -- that “That Woman” had flown right at him, plunging from the night sky, screeching and yowling like some animal possessed. Never you mind the several pints of ale that had been downed, because that surely didn’t have thing-one to do with what was the god’s-honest-truth. So the rumors flew, and the tales grew, and as the dog-days of July did rapidly approach, we had ourselves our own little legend festering in whispered tones. Truth be told, there were but a hand-few who would ever truly come to understand the goings-on in those secretive woods. I would be one of those few. I came to see and learn things beyond my wildest imagination; things which defy all logic and things that changed me forever. Was she a witch? Here is the tale, for you to decide. At the onset of that mysterious summer I found myself of marrying age. My mother, a housewife, and my father, a shopkeeper in the dry-goods trade, worked diligently to procure a suitable husband for their only daughter to marry. Formal introductions had been made to nearly all the eligible men in town, and yet I found myself without a hint of interest in the entire lot of them. Call them what you will, but in turn I found each to be rude, foolish, smelly, awkward, cruel, criminal, or insane, in often unsavory combinations. My female friends at this age were of course all a-chatter about this boy or that one. Did he like her, and did she like him, and on and on in a boring drone. Forgive me, but I lacked the passion that they felt. No man turned my pretty head, made my heart pound with emotion, nor left me faint and breathless. I did not lack for suitors mind you. Many a young man came a courting at my parents’ encouragement, but alas, never could I find that spark, that magical bliss of which the old married couples speak with such fond memories. As my circle of friends began to dwindle as they all began to marry, I came to know the fear that such wonderful feelings were not in store for me. But I busied myself with other pursuits. I worked in my father’s store, did my chores, rode horses on our farm, chatted with neighbors, and took long walks down our many country lanes. “Oh, I think you’re pretty clever. What are you doing? About 2 drinks and a smooch later (where Jon had his hands on my bum (under my dress) while I gave him a long French kiss) the DJ announced that the cages were being lowered and that if anyone wanted to dance in them they were to go to see him. There was no doubt the others felt the same way, but reality is reality and I think they all asian breathed a sigh of relief when I came to the conclusion that they all needed to work. Dinner was noisy and cheerful, several voices overlapping each other. She nodded. Her eyes dart around as she listens. I knew thai that I was staring, but couldn't pull my eyes off of how her titties were almost visible through the almost see-through white cotton. Haven’t seen a naked girl in some time?. She asked if she could sleep in my bed tonight. She was a little shocked at his reply but secretly wondered what other parts of her body that a a group of teenage boys had discussed or even fantasized about. “Marriage not so great, Bob?” I forgot I was into that style when I was that young. I cannot promise a consistent upload schedule yet as I have to manage university, work and other commitments. We were going to have such a wild orgy tonight. In a swift motion, he ripped Isabelle's hoodie in the front. Ch 8 Retaliation This was hilarious.

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"Thanks Evan." Erin spared one final glance towards Felicia's room before walking down the hall leaving Evan at Felicia's door. The world felt darker and Erin needed some fresh air. 4."He's not one of the-" Bethany trailed off as she pulled into thai the hospital parking lot. "No, he's not one of the dead ones," asian Eliza snapped. "Don't say that." "Sorry." Eliza bolted into the hospital, Bethany trailing behind her. The woman at the front desk looked up Micah's information at Eliza's behest whole Bethany took in the sickly atmosphere of the lobby. The sweet, antiseptic scent in the air sent Bethany back to the days when her grandmother was withering away from pancreatic cancer. I hate hospitals, she thought. Eliza's sharp voice cut through Bethany's unpleasant daydream. "What the hell do you mean I can't see him?" Bethany ambled over to the front desk and found Eliza red faced and broiling. "Ma'am, he is not on public visiting hours currently." "I need to see him. You need to let me go upstairs." "Why? Are you his girlfriend or something?" Bethany could tell the nurse had pushed the wrong button. Eliza was going to blow if she did not do something. "When will he be on visiting hours? Anytime today?" Bethany asked quickly, slapping on a bright smile to ease the tension. "Maybe," the nurse said carefully. "He's apparently asleep right now. We had moved onto a club where we wasn’t asked to show ID. The other girls were on the dancefloor but Isabelle and I were on a couple of stools near the bar. Sam had asked them to research all the records. Brock stood up and dusted himself off, staring daggers into me before kindly addressing Yavara. He did and wow this was getting to be fun.. I slid my panties down my legs and sought someplace to hang them so they could dry out. As she started to hump on it their breasts mashed and Hailey frantically licked any cum she could find from asian Marge's face and chin. "FUCK MY TITS!" she yelled back, jerking her shoulders - showing off to her fans how sloppy her big breasts were getting. And you'd make him really happy. Trust me." Out of curiosity she also tested how strong jolts the panties could deliver. Cindy was tall already and in her heels she l was eye to thai eye with Mark. One in particular, Manfred Schmidt, was a 30 year old leather top who specialized in breaking down homophobes. “She pulled my bottoms down and—”Deana pointed at her crotch—“fingered me while I was hanging on the edge of the pool, watching Evan mow the lawn. Why would they? They were nervous that one or the other might want to back out. "Oh come on, we were just getting started!" Melinda’s arousal was interrupted by the reality that her fanny pack contained her car keys and cell phone. I was ready, hard and throbbing.


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