"You mean with Michael?" Of course, with Michael. Who did you think I meant, your mom?" Well, the first time, when I finally decided to ask him, like ... said he was on his front porch when I got home from school, sitting on the swing and reading a book. I went up to him and said I wanted to ask him about stuff, and he said sure. It was hard, but I told him all about that man in the woods, with his raincoat which when he opened it, his thing was stiff and pointing up, and it had a red head, and. It's an average sized three-bedroom home on a cul-de-sac in an upper middle class neighborhood. I have a good job in a relatively stable industry so I felt confident this would be my home for a long time. The downside of my good job is that I work long hours and don't really have much of a social life. Sadly, the majority of my social life consisted of attending the many block and house parties put on by the homeowner's association. It's not easy being the only single female in a family. As soon as I had her secured in the wheelchair my sister finally passed out.I quickly wheeled my sister out to the old garage and once inside I turned on the lights it didn't matter after all I had blackout shades so no light would escape. I put a hooded mask on my face and I pushed a button that started a camera rolling as I stood my groggy sister up; her arms tied behind her back. I slapped her face a couple of times and she slowly started to come around. "What the fuck is happening?" She. Her sour mood was made just a little worse by the growing call from her brain and body for the white dust she'd been using to fuel her hormonally driven sex addiction. The coke made her orgasms monumentally huge, and her constant use of the drug over the last few days was taking its toll. She was edgy, and although she suspected it was just from the abuses she'd put upon her mind and body from the hormone pills and from all the sex, deep down inside she knew the white dust was calling and that.
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