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Primeval drabbles

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"Philip... you're just a whore," Helen whispered against his ear admiringly. "I've caught you right on the street to fuck, and you're glad. And how did nobody lay hands on you before? And even didn't try?" Philip groaned something into Helen's palm, that covered his mouth, and arched when her other hand reached his skin under his shirt and she pressed him to the wall by all her weight. "Though, perhaps, not many women are capable of that, but you're lucky," Helen bit his neck, and Philip mumbled something else. "I'm one of them."

April 18, 2018