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."She gave me another tight hug."Thank you, you're the best!"She grinned as though she had heard me saying yes in agreement to that.She caressed me wi...h her soft lips, nuzzling kisses on me and held me tight for the rest of the night.That became part of her daily routine with me. Any time she felt the urge to fart, she would do it on me.It felt so good having her fart on me, and even more so knowing how much relief and comfort she got from doing that.Knowing she enjoyed the smell of her farts. Besides, I’m Irish. Rebellion lurks in our hearts. When ‘The Terror’ commenced in Paris I changed my mind. No matter what the ruling classes of France had done, and I had enough personal experience to know how corrupted they were, they didn’t deserve what happened to them. Nor did the innumerable common folk who were swept up and sent to their deaths on nothing more than secret accusations. By the time Robespierre went to the guillotine, I had already made arrangements to get out of France. The joy she had taken in his silly, stupid jokes had torn through the barriers in the spirit world. The power that flowed from him to her had become a flood, raging through her, reversing decades of aging in an eyeblink.Slowly, she took off her gown, taking sensual delight in the feel of the cold air on her skin. Her hands dipped low, stroking the flat planes of her stomach. She caught sight of her image in the mirror and frowned. Grabbing a small pair of scissors off her bedside table, she. Then my attention was to stroke her around her face neck and to lightly run my finger across the top part of her lip intermingled with some tongue kisses.Gradually my hands would find their way down her body towards her breasts but not actually touching them but just underneath them , then move my tongue into play with it running around the outer part not touching the nipple.As this was happening I started to massage her upper thigh area.By this stage she was telling me that she had never had.
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