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It was the spring ofI was living at the time with one of my best friends.
He seemed anxious to get home; normally he is in no rush and probably would have had a few more.
He seemed anxious to get home; normally he is in no rush and probably would have had a few more.
Then we walked up to a long, one-story building next to the taller sanctuary, and he paused, turning to me.
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Before Christmas would be ideal.
I started to nod, and he squeezed my breast tightly.
At least the fish didn't bicker about getting a lower discount than advertised, or that so-and-so was already out of whatever it was in the flyer and it was only nine o'clock.
"Don't.