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I loved him so much my heart was breaking. It wasn’t only my children I was failing, it was my husband. He wrapped me in his arms as we lay in bed and kissed my chin.“We can hope first grade relieves a little of the pressure,” he said softly. “At least you will only have one at home.”“Is that all I can do? I don’t want to be a terrible mother. I don’t want to be a terrible wife. I don’t want to be a terrible person.”“A horse,” he said firmly. I pulled away from him and stared.“What?”“Betsy needs something to focus on that is her responsibility. We need to get a horse.”“Wouldn’t a puppy be a better place to start?” I asked. “A horse?”“Baby, would you really put a poor defenseless little puppy in Betsy’s hands?”Well, there was that. It was hard enough to keep her from doing damage to a two-year-old brother. I could only imagine what she’d do to a puppy.“Isn’t ... Wouldn’t that be ... I mean a horse be ... dangerous?”“Betts needs something bigger than she is. I’ll get some materials. Jim reached over to the nightstand and found my clover nipple clamps and put them on each nipple. The clamps bit down into my hard nipples and Jim tugged the chain and I let out a moan.Jim then laid on the bed as I had asked him so I could impale my hot cunt on his cock and ride him cowgirl. Then I could suck on Fred's cock as he kneeled on the bed. Jim pulled down my thong panties.I was so horny and my pussy contracting that as I positioned over his cockhead and lowered myself, his hard cock was buried balls deep within seconds and we both let out a moan. I gyrated and left it buried as I began sucking and licking Fred's cock. I lifted off Jim's fat pole and slammed back down while deepthroating Fred. I am a slut and love cock!After a few minutes, Jim grabbed my hips and began lifting me off and pushing me back down on his throbbing pole. We began fucking in rhythm and could hear the echo of flesh smacking against flesh at a furious pace in the room. Still sucking on Fred who is now.
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“Numa, if you see a rainbow after a shower of rain, how can you convey that rainbow to someone who has never seen a rainbow? Or a fish you see jumping out of a river? Or the changing colours of a leaf before it falls off a tree? You are creating a visible memory of something which has moved on in time.If you had created an image of your father before he died, you would still have that image of him as an extra memory, and you could show it to new people and say, ‘This is my father, who died defending me and my sister.’The creation of an image can be a means of fixing a memory you want to preserve, among other wonderful aspects of art.”Numa retaliated with, “I can tell you all about my father: what he was like, what he did for our tribe, what he did for us, what his voice was like when he spoke softly, and how he could be frightening when he spoke loudly. Can your image tell me that?”“Some of it, yes; other parts, no. The picture can speak down the generations, where your memory and.

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