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‘You do not know how I am like my mother. The practice has been common for thousands of years. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. Goodbye. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. . Let me see now. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of.
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This video was uploaded to tructiepcauthongthuongde.org on 22-09-2024 08:41:10
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