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...clattering, the two dove after her, long fingernails and boney fingers seesawing away merrily. And all she could do was watch as they plucked and yanked at her dress. Away flew a few buttons, the whirrring sound of her laces being yanked free of her bodice. Cold air hissing against suddenly freed breasts, unable to wrench her arms up to hide them from their greedy laughing eyes. So without a sound...
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mountain king
writing

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Published: 1 month, 2 weeks ago (Thu, 05 Nov 2009 10:05:27 PST); 3044 bytes
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