With the mixture ready, Morales worked it into the fine cracks and smoothed them up. After a final inspection, he sat back. “I don’t think I reall... had to do that, but I don’t want to risk those small cracks getting bigger and screwing up all my work.”Though worried that he might not have waited long enough, he, nevertheless, decided to go ahead and chance a drying fire inside the oven. “If I accelerate the drying too much, there’s a possibility that I’ll screw things up and have some major. "She didn't know that I knew Tom had gone upstairs so I very casually said, "How about you come over tomorrow when the place isn't so crowded. It's not really a good idea to go upstairs at one of my parties. Some of my friends can be a little uninhibited if you know what I mean. A few drinks, a couple of trips to the mistletoe, raging hormones and stuff like that. So come on over tomorrow when things won't be so wild up there, okay? Excuse me, there is someone I need to talk to."I walked away. Nice, fried-egg tits and a small tattoo (some Oriental-looking symbol.) I whipped her bandana off to loosen her braided locks, let them fall to her thin shoulders.Getting out of my clothes, I spread them on the carpet behind the long table, opposite side from the only door. I'd turned on only one overhead light; nice and romantic down there where I had Ernestine lay down. She lifted her arms and spread her long legs in a universal invitation, which I was damned sure accepting. Climbing above. His wire glasses were slightly askew, and he was rubbing his chest. His scowling wife stood beside him. “Morning Missee Jane,” he painfully managed. Jane smiled. She moved around the store adding to her basket, more fruit, veggies, eggs, and noodles. Her last item was a jar of special Scheswan sauce. Mr. Chan knew it was her favourite. It was placed on the lowest shelf of the main aisle, in full view of the cashier’s counter. Jane bent over. She carefully selected a jar and took her time.
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