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She really wasn’t sure about ‘typical male reaction’, not being particularly experienced. But then Paul almost sent her into tears when he laughed again and added, ‘Fenton would have popped around to comfort Sally and she would have rewarded him the only way Sally knows how.’ Her father saw her head drop, laughed again and gave her a horse-bite on the thigh, something he hadn’t done since her teenage years. ‘Come on baby, loosen up. You can’t be angry for a bloke taking it if it’s on offer – it’s in his genes.’ She laughed saying did he mean genes or jeans. They both laughed and she snuggled up against him saying, ‘I love you daddy,’ and that caused Paul to sniff because it had been sometime since she’d last said that other than mechanically. Trinity then though that she’d not really been attentive to Fenton and wondered what she meant by that and then her cheeks began to burn. ‘Daddy, would you accept Fenton as your son-in-law?’ Paul snorted. ‘Sure baby, he’s the man but perhaps. In thehalf light it looked as though I was a perfectly formed womanbelow my skirt and Mary gasped in surprise. I then turned myback, took off the gaff and slipped my panties back on and thistime when I turned and lifted my skirt my panties were now tentedforward by my rigid erection. Dropping my skirt it also now hada sexy bulge and hearing the taxi approach I quickly adjustedmyself so it was not so obvious and covered by the folds of skirtfabric.The car pulled up and we got in. Sally Anne sat in the middle, Isat on the right and Mary on the left. As the taxi pulled awayMary leant over and kissed Sally Anne and put her arm over as ifto put it around her but instead I felt it slip under my dressand up to my panties and then stroked my penis through the satin.I was already aroused and this felt great. I am sure I wouldhave cum had the taxi driver not given a discrete cough as hepulled up at our home. We paid the bill and went inside."You know, Sally Anne, I don't know what is getting.
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In this more modern century, all returned to typing away at the most modern electric typewriters with sleek black rotary telephones and stacks of manila file folders covering their desks. The older, bald monk at the desk by the far door looked up from his computer at the approach of the young, dusky-skinned Jesuit."Yes?" the bald monk said curtly, blanking the greenish screen covered in lines of code."Your pardon, sir, but I carry a message from Delphi," the young man said in a hushed, Lebanese-accented voice. He was dark featured and on the short side of six feet though in good shape, his musculature plain even under the concealing cassock. The clothes were travel-stained and he had bags under his eyes, evidence of a hasty trip here from Greece with no care for his own comfort. He straightened, putting a little more energy into his demeanor. "The Oracle charged me to deliver it to the Exarch himself."The bald man gave the Jesuit a long look before picking up his phone and pressing a.

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