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Not tend…he could satisfy me before he pleased himself. When he finally did, he took it slow. He was tender. Not tender like I was fragile, but tender like I was precious.
Marsha Adams
✍ Posy Churchgate
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Writing original Fiction * Romance* Relationships* Erotica* Edits Teaser Tales For early access Subscribe to Ream https://reamstories.com/posy_churchgate
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