She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. He drove it into her missionary style, and though he was worried about hurting her, he could not stop himself from thrusting into her deeply. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 29-04-2024 18:45:11
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