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I will be bucking and moaning under him, eager. Already I feel the quickening of my loins, the damp readiness, and my breath shortening. But I will no... just let him have me. She heaved her body into an arch, pushing him up a little as she grunted from the effort, then tried to drop and pull out from under him, but he dropped back and trapped her knees. He released her left hand, leaning back so she could no longer strike him, and started unbuckling his own belt. She bent forward and up,. There’s a sense of violation that’s a lot more personal about being manipulated. Why? Well, theft is somewhat opportunistic, but manipulation is intentional. Predatory loans, the practice of lending money to people who can’t really afford the loan to get them in debt for the rest of their lives is an example. It’s like, oh boy we found a vulnerability! Let’s exploit it.Governmental policies had a similar sinister feel to them. Consider the Currency Transaction Report which deals with cash. " Did daddy even know that grandpa touched you like a lover?" Cindy asked."Wow that's quite a conclusion to jump to, Honey, since your dad and I split, I have had lovers, who were were less exciting than your father or your grandfather.Your grand father wasn't a lover at all, and still he was better than some of those who thought they were." I said vaguely."Has grandpa ever made you orgasm, either himself or thinking about him while you masturbated?" Cindy asked."What the fuck is wrong with you. A blazing log fire was in the hearth and the Christmas tree stood next to it, there were even a couple of Christmas stockings hanging from the mantle-piece.The two boys were sat on the rug in front of the blazing fire playing cards."Hi Auntie," they called in unison.Carrie chuckled, "So what have you two been up to that has got you in your mother's bad books?" she asked as she crossed to one of the over-stuffed armchairs.Tom grinned, "It was his fault," he said jerking his thumb towards his.
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She wanted, no needed, to drink. The long night, the dry air on the plane, had made her dehydrated, but still she was too afraid to ask.She would for ...ure stutter, rattle like the drunk she was, and that was just too embarrassing. Apart from that, she would throw that up too.And so she found herself with her eyes shut as long as possible, fighting her sleep, fighting not to throw up as the alcohol took the plain into yet another loop.It had been early in the morning when she had woken up and. The storm had literally almost blackened the sky outside. Even now that she was standing in the window at the head of the stairs, she could barely look down and see herself. Oh shit, I’m topless, she realized. She twisted and gazed down the dark stairwell and decided against trying to go back down after a flashlight that was probably broke anyway. No, she needed a shirt, and that meant going to her bedroom on the far end of the hallway. She turned and gazed down the dark second floor hall. More

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