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sample animal fucking girls "animalfuckinggirls" story: Because he was an absolute fox.
He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair,
except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these really
light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had on him!
He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if they'd been
empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got ruptured. Even Dad
couldn't lift one of them that easily!
All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was
always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned over
(supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not incidentally
press my boobs into his arm) he just gave me a quick glance and a funny
little half-smile and I wanted to cross my legs 'cause I was getting so
wet down there.
By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was
having some friends over for a slumber party (heh) and since Dad was on
midnight shifts and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over us
kids (double-heh) that night.
All was in readiness.
I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered
again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused
myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my
swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped
he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could to
lean against him.
At seven, my friends started arriving and at eight he had finished
calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with. At
nine, my brothers were sent to bed and Jeanne, pleading weariness, sacked
it. Alexis was out on a date and Mom was fading fast. At ten, Dad was
dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work early; Dad was
a Depression baby and believed in showing up very early) and Mom was
fighting to stay awake.
At ten-thirty, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom
step-brother, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a
paperback and scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches.
At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table
and sat facing him.
"Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book.
"Antisocial?"
He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?"
"Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know...continue -> zoo paysites |
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