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As we were returning to bed, I observed that Miss Frankland took something out of her wardrobe wrapped up in a handkerchief, and placed it under her pillow with a certain air of mystery. I said nothing. After purifying ourselves we always indulged in a voluptuous gamahuche; after which Miss Frankland generally asked, as a favour, that I should finish off in culo.
They preferred these preliminary encounters to the more lascivious excesses we were about to enter upon as exciting and preparing their passions for more voluptuous embraces. Both the dear creatures loved a prick in culo from time to time, but as yet they had not had the opportunity of having a prick in each aperture at once.
Adjacent to the men's public urinal they perceived an icecream car round which a group of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting rid of voluble expressions in their vivacious language in a particularly animated way, there being some little differences between the parties. Puttana madonna, che ci dia i quattrini! Ho ragione? Culo rotto! Intendiamoci. Mezzo sovrano piu...
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