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... ce smooth enough to butter toast.

He put her down gently, like she was some fragile vase instead of a walking ball of nerves, and positioned her in front of him. His hands settled firmly on her hips, holding her in place like a sculptor about to chisel a masterpiece.

"Hmmm..."

He groaned, rubbing his chin like a pervy detective solving a very horny case. His eyes roamed up and down her body with the intensity of someone studying the Mona Lisa, except his Mona Lisa was ner ...

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