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Es betonte das Kindhafte in ihr. Keine Nacht verging, in der ihm nicht ihr Bild erschien. Er hatte sie einmal heimlich beim Waschen beobachtet. Ihr Oberkörper war entblößt. Mit dem nassen Lappen fuhr sie über die Brüste. Das Wasser perlte auf ihrer weißen Haut. Sie hob den Rock. Was Eike Kerkhof zu sehen bekam, ließ ich schwer atmen.Anna erhob sich, um das Wasser im Eimer zu erneuern. Sie ging auf den Hof.Der junge Mann folgte bis zur Tür. Unentschlossen blieb er stehen. In ihm kochte das Blut. Tief holte er Luft. Seine Hand tastete nach den Verschlüssen der Jacke. Er zitterte.Schon näherten sich die Schritte des Mädchens wieder. Eike Kerkhof drückte sich gegen die Wand. Das Herz klopfte ihm bis zum Hals.Die Tür öffnete sich. Anna trat ein. Kerkhof verstellte ihr den Weg.„ Ich… ich muss die Dielen putzen. Sonst… sonst schimpft die Herrin“, stotterte die Magd.Im Gesicht des Mannes zuckte es. Ein flüchtiges Grinsen verzerrte es zur Grimasse.Erschrocken wich das Mädchen zurück.„Was habt. He reached in and pulled out asmall blue purse. The boy unzipped the purse to find a thin wallet withonly a driver's license inside. His eyes bulged when he saw the issueddate listed with the current date."Tamara Wilson?" he said out loud, staring at the name. There was even asignature. And a birthday in March. She was twenty-six years old.A cold finger touched his spine. Craig hid the ID and grabbed a piece ofpaper to write the name from the card. He turned the ID back over andcursed as he compared the signatures. They were nearly a perfect match."Shit," he said finally.Craig lay back against his bed with his hands on his belly. He'dpracticed walking around the house yesterday for a specific purpose butnow that it was time to do what he'd planned, he was terrified andfinding the driver's license only made it worse. It felt- he struggledwith the right word until settling on way - disconcertingly inevitable.As if the decision had been taken away from him. As if he were.
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She smiled up at me in exhaustion and said, “You’re so hard. I’m too sick. I can’t take you now. Do the other.”I mounted her chest and squeezed her breasts around my cock. She had giggled the first time I had fucked her tits, “The people you tell will think I’m so busty, like a model.” This time she didn’t giggle but merely watched curiously as I pulled the lube from under the mattress and slathered them up. I knew she wanted to sleep, so I didn’t hold back. She smiled as I worked madly between them and smiled even more broadly when my first spurt flooded onto her neck and dribbled onto her pillow, seven more spurts following to coat her chest and neck. I wiped her up as she dozed off, smiling at my tribute to her breasts, and was fast asleep by the time I left. Two days later the doctor told me, “Mycoplasm. They’re nasty critters, neither plants nor animals. It’s no wonder your windpipe’s lit up like a Christmas tree. But they’re easy to treat.” I got a prescription that afternoon.

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