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When she was finished with her fragile creation, she had a tiny sandwich between her fingers, filled with a luscious, warm vanilla cream frosting and pudding mixture.Something about the way Tanya was holding her little creation caused Frank's attention to shift from the delicacies on the tray to his wife. He watched as she bit the bottom crust off her little cream 'sandwich, ' then she squished the rest of it against her left breast, completely covering her areola. She lay back and looked at him."Care for a snack?" she asked suggestively. She jutted her breast up at him. The top crust fell off and rolled onto the bed. "Darn!" she said, then picked it up and ate it. "I saved the cream filling for you, anyway. Want it?"Frank leaned over and delicately licked it off her breast. "It needs something," he said, and began looking over the breakfast tray thoughtfully. "Ah!" he exclaimed, and picked up a packet of jelly.He held it over her breast, then squeezed its contents onto the sticky. · His hands moved over me squeezing my breasts and buttocks, pulling at my hair. I turned my head and wondered how I had. got myself in this position, what use would Brian put the pictures to, presumably blackmail and I thought about what I would do to him if I got free. Eventually he came. I breathed a deep breath as he rolled off me.· Brian opened his bag and took an empty wine bottle out he touched my cheek with the neck of it there is no Ginger to save you today he said.· He started to move the neck of the bottle across my throat, breasts, stomach, pubic hair, down my legs and across the soles of my feet.· I watched in fear as he knelt between my legs I could see and feel the bottle as he ran it up the inside of them it touched my entrance I tried to move away from it but could not.· I he pushed the neck of the bottle in to me until it was stopped as the shoulders of the bottle met the inside of my legs.· I closed my eyes and felt the.
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No, he was aiming at his ex-girlfriend, a woman who had also decided to spend the last hour of daylight in the park. She had caught sight of him and sprinted in the opposite direction, lost among others. But the gunman took one last desperate shot. A bloom of pain in Dipty chest, and too late, the instinct to run grabbed her. Her legs could no longer carry her away from the threat. She took a few steps and then stumbled. People ran past her, sobbing, wailing, covering their children’s eyes, trying to spare them the trauma of seeing her collapse in a heap. Kartik alone stayed with her. Instead of running away from the shooter, Kartik darted over to her and knelt at her side. Dipty lay on her back, struggling to breathe. Her face appeared before Kartik, and Kartik soft brown eyes held the panic and terror of an animal being chased, but Kartik crouched next to her as if to protect her from further harm. Kartik tried to apply pressure to his wound with his hands, but there was too much.

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