.. they beat him with their big sticks.” He laughed loudly, as if this was a really good joke. I thought this a bit weird, until he began to whack m... butt with his hefty hard-on. My ass, still tingling from the slap, started to glow under the hard dick-beating. After a while he began to smack his wood-hard erection between my buns, right on my butthole, which made me moan and whimper with arousal.“You like my big stick, boy?” Samson growled, thickly, still as the Boer cop. “Oooh yes!” I. And, the FBI now believed, the only ones.For Beryl Thatcher, who had so much going for her, it was greed. Pure and simple. Greed.In a totally unexpected move, Beryl Thatcher’s attorney called me. “We want to see you.”I’d kept up on the progress of the teenagers-for-sale case. Jill Morton had pleaded guilty as part of a complicated negotiation to reduce her time in durance vile. She named Beryl Thatcher as her supplier. Her only supplier.Crosby Nelson and his three pals were still fighting in. More

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