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When she came to sweep my bedroom I knew I had scored because now her pallu was tied around her waist amply showing off her cleavage in the black bra. She was looking at me from the corner of her eyes and smiling. I decided not to waste any more time. I got up just snatched the broom from her hand and pulled her against the wall. Her chest was heaving in excitement and she closed her eyes. I held her head from behind and pulled her mouth towards me to engage in long passionate kiss. Our tongues started dueling. She started making hissing sounds and arching her body trying to hit her cunt with my erection. Take me Saab fuck me I want your hot rod inside me, fuck me now. Saying this she pulled my head on her chest and started ruffling my hair and kissing on my hair cheeks and lips and virtually smothering me in her breasts. But I wanted to enjoy her fully and make her my sex slave forever. I stepped back and looked at her. There was that raw passion in her eyes, pleading for sex, face. "Ironically—and there's no better word for it—Lacey's reaction to her latest session with her psychiatrist resulted in her settling into a new set of ruts in her life. She decided not to question her feelings for Bob. Paul was gone, and the dim memories she had of him weren't appealing, so she didn't think much about him either. Her business was doing well. She was happy. Though there were still holes in her memory, she didn't worry about them. She developed another "belief" that wasn't based on facts. As far as she was concerned, if she didn't remember something, it wasn't very important. Life was good, and she intended to enjoy it.Part of that was enjoying being in love with, and being loved by Bob Duncan. And part of THAT was the physical love they shared, which she no longer associated with anything unhappy in her history.It wasn't so easy for Bob. His memory was fully intact, and his moral code was unaffected by trauma. Irony was also present in the way he tried to deal with the.
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