Cunt. Whore. Slut. Bring it on. All of it was a dimension of her–not an identity. She was also Dr. Susan Kensington the scientist, scholar and so mu...h more. Why could they not co-exist, each part of who she was? No conflict was necessary. Society could shove its narrow-eyed judgments of culture and religion up its ass. Fuck it all. She denied that artificial morality of sex, those constraints of supposedly normal behavior: the chains of others trying to control and manipulate her. She knew how. Gently, I would correct her grammatical construction and phrasing, explaining (as well as I could) the reasons for the grammatical rules I was teaching.Between times, when we were at home, the lessons continued, broken by periods during which Margarita helped Carol with her children. With Margarita available to greet the two school-aged Turner children when they arrived home each day from school, Carol was able to extend her working hours a little, thus augmenting the family's income. Margarita. Slightly confused, Meg stared at the now closed bedroom door for a moment. She turned to Christine and shook her head."Sometimes, I simply do not understand the rules of conduct and behavior he follows. And yet, he always knows exactly what to do. Despite what Phillipe says about his little brother, I have always found Raoul to have a great sense of savoir-faire. He always treats me as if I am his equ..."She sighed and flashed a smile at her friend, but Christine noticed the hint of sadness. She did not knew all this was fake and started to do what he was saying. She stood right in front of him and held the power box and the man started to enjoy his own work. The towel which she wore was in such a way that the man can easily see her boobs and her ass clearly. Now while fixing the wires he was touching her boobs continuously. She knew all that was happening but thought it was just a mistake. Then the man slowly started to rub his dick on her ass without opening the jip and not.