Much too young for you. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. Oh, you cannot escape from it. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. It pained Lucy to see Mike eating so sparely.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjI5LjE0OCAtIDA5LTA2LTIwMjQgMTk6MTc6MDggLSAxNDk5Mzk3Mzcy
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