Aur kah rahi hai-mere bete phad de apni maa ki choot,bana de isko bhsda.tera mota land bahut maja de raha hai.neeraj niche se apni gand uchchalta hua ...ola-ha maa teri choot mast hai.ise to mai bhosda bana kar manuga.ye sunkar aur ja chal raha tha use dekhkar bhpesh turant nanga ho gaya aur apne khade ho gaye land ko apni patni ke muh me dal diya .prabha land ko chusne lagi .ye dekha kar hema bhi nagi ho gayi aur apne bhai ke pas pahuch kar apni gili choot ko uske muh pe rakha diya ,jise vah. "Listen," said Morrel; "it is not the first time you have contemplated our present position, which is a serious and urgent one; I do not think it is a moment to give way to useless sorrow; leave that for those who like to suffer at their leisure and indulge their grief in secret. There are such in the world, and God will doubtless reward them in heaven for their resignation on earth, but those who mean to contend must not lose one precious moment, but must return immediately the blow which. This was not the pic I was expecting. Caraline was dam gorgeous. Wearing no makeup her hair pulled back. Hot smile. Wow. Now I was interested. I sent back a cheeky email saying “is that all you got”. That evening I noticed another email from Caraline. I opened it and the message simply read “NOPE”.. I opened the attachment and when the pic came up I was stunned. Caraline was laying on her bed wearing a tight red see through top and matching thong. A sign next to her read “more red 4 U 7070. Staci Horst. She was fucking Staci Horst! "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!", I thought. For those of you not familiar with Des Moines, Staci Horst had been the KCCI news anchor until a year ago. It had been widely speculated that she might have to resort to PA work and it was assumed that if she did, she would end up at Principal with her former competitor from WHO, Erin Kiernan. Now, here she was, fucking up my day! Of all the shitty luck. She saw the emotions play out over my face which.