Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice.
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This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 01-06-2024 06:59:38
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