You must forgive the poet’s license I take. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. But I'm not worrying about that. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was.
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This video was uploaded to dogtrainingengineering.online on 19-07-2024 16:55:36
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